Calculating Nowhere From the Middle of Tuesday.
I tripped over the middle, fell head-first into nowhere, I found life on my left side...
and declared it...
fantastic.
There was absolutely no way to figure us out, so I did the math and subtracted one smile
from ten kisses, in the end I bit my lip and shook my head, curls bouncing in the element
of confusion for I had come up...
with nothing.
I strung phrases over rainbows and headed out towards storms, here, his promises decided
me foolish, they counted the leftover tears that I had collected, they spoke of nothing
save the end of June, and I recalled how the marks that were left from midnight
confessions burned themselves with a grin as my voice dissipated into nowhere....
and my ankles became stuck...
somewhere...
towards the middle.
He hushed me when I screamed, the syllables of ten-thousand girls who all found him
devastating, and my eyes traced the patterns of his shadowed glances just so I would know
where to turn next.
One foot straight to the left, and he told me...
not.to.trip.
And I always found his lips more desirable when my toes sank, naked, into Tuesday's
sheets, for life presented herself more clearly when our legs twisted into...
nowhere...
and sunrise appeared in rainbows that seemed to drip honesty over half broken promises,
over half broken hearts that cut me when I couldn't find him...
anywhere...
except in the calculation of ten thousand smiles and one kiss that left me in the middle...
of him.
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