He said we were all bouncing balls, going to fall. He said it suddenly
with conviction, as if he knew. And as if we listened. I didn’t. I doubt the
others did.
Flecks of plaster stuck to my hair, made me wanna sneeze, slightly
colored if you squinted, as if she was still lingering there, you know?
Now, of course, i wish i had. Listened.
It would have spared me the wild cheep chase. Running after and running
toward.
He said hearts cannot be broken. Only scarred. But that was worse. HE
said we all had it coming. He had seen it, and it wasn’t pretty.
I have to admit it had me rattled for a while. Once i remembered his
words, or trying to, grasping for air inside the gates. I could afford myself
some introspection, now
that i had made it here.
What are you aiming at? Apart from the immediate, i am not so sure.
He would agree it wasn’t bad. But he would ask for more texture. More to
grind. Less space. He carried himself that way.
I saw him on the way to the library. He would go there for the smell. It
replaced home.
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