akimbo

If you call me | I won't be home
I'm hiding from the kingdom come

hiding across the street from the abandoned police station. from a perfectly interesting possibility (because i'm still stuck beside the one 200 miles to the north, 1200 miles to the west, across two oceans and several continents) and away from the snow. wearing heels every day and staying up compulsively late. working -by association - for big pharm, combustible cars, dangerous oil. the media king, a midnight radio monopolist with his fingers in every dirty pot of gold. yoga, unless i'm lazy. too much coffee, not enough sunlight. coconut skins, vampire weekend, and cosmic love in a blizzard, for the brokenhearted two years too late.

[they cared, right? i'm not crazy?]

distracted and wordless.
wishing i were on a different continent because it might have changed everything this time.
pulling my hair out by the roots.
falling asleep on my back, limbs akimbo.
MFA v. PC (i live in a land of non-lucrative acronyms).

put me back in a place where i've no option. clearly my self-control is kicking in for all the wrong reasons. take the world away from my finger tips and make me fight for it again. every day. hot and out of my element and fresh-faced from the lack of an alternative.

surviving. survive(d) paradise.