Thursday, April 12, 2007


It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dyin breath of
this love that we've been workin on.

You know I was struck the other day by the thought we’ve seen our best days, and here we are, in our last days, fighting so hard to delay what will inevitably come. I hear you in the other room, the soft clink of a plate or the dull drone of the TV, another world, as I sit here in mine. We pass each other by like ships in the night in the fog and all I can see is the dull, dead light in your eyes as we try and try and fail and fail to put on the happy face we should for our little one. And he knows something’s wrong, he definitely knows, in his godly wisdom, he so fucking knows and it breaks my heart.

I still care, I do. You are my best friend. You are the greatest lover I’ve ever had. But the domestic stillness is destroying us fast. And maybe it’s me, I have my problems, God knows, I have my problems, and you have yours and maybe we need to fix ourselves before we can fix our love. But we do not have a lot of time, every day he learns a bunch of new words and he’s growing up so fast and if we don’t get our shit together he will continue to fade completely away into his own little world of dogs and trains.

He flinched the other day when I went to hug him.

If we were friends, if that is possible, friends like when we first met… then maybe Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t yell at each other anymore.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007


What if it all should end and come tumbling down like the walls of Jericho? What will happen when the inevitable day comes where I find myself inexpressibly left with nothing?

They say when you lose everything are you able to truly do anything.

Freedom to fly away, with no reservations, away with the wind. Freedom to self-destruct. Freedom to die.

I knew an old man once, he seemed so wise. We’d spend hours together, I remember, and it always rained… always raining. He’d tell me stories about his days in the war. Amazing tales, larger then life, more life in those tales then I could every possibly imaging living… even now. To this day.

If I lost you I’d have nothing left, little man. Because of you I get out of bed, and eat, and try to dream. I have to dream, for us. For you and me. And sometimes I hate myself for being so selfish. I know it’s not about me anymore, but I cling to the past like toilet paper to a shoe.

I continue to live because of you and even then it’s hard to do so, but I promise you I’ll try.