too much sand has been lost

but

the tide

//refuses//

to stop

p_o_u_n_d_i_n_g.

& last night i couldn't sleep so i re-read breakfast at tiffany's [a teardrop fell on every page]

& she said never love a wild-thing or you will end up looking at the sky. [& the sky's a lonely place to be she told Mr. Bell. People go there to hear the thunder boom & watch things disappear.]

maybe i should go to the sky.

so will you [cross yr heart & kiss yr elbow] promising me that you won't leave?

too late.

sometimes when i have nothing else to think of i let myself imagine my funeral.

i notice that soon i will only become a date on a calendar, & people will mourn me because they feel obligated too, not because they have a reason anymore.

&&my coffin will have blue orchids on top [if there is such a color]

&&the funeral man will say i was confident &such when i really wasn't but funeral men always make you sound better off dead than alive.

but a few people who really knew me would know that

being dead is the same to me [because i'm still alone] the only difference is

i wouldn't have to think about it

anymore.

<3<3<3

- +