my thoughts were so loud, I couldn't hear my mouth.

Sometimes I walk to class and hesitate between steps, pondering the notion of reversing them and caving to my sometimes impulsive tendencies.

I didn't paint my face today or brush out my locks.
I dug my fingers into themselves and hid them beneath the folds of my jacket and the wind. I considered taking those backward steps and envisioned driving to a cafe nestled along a cloudy seaside. I envisioned spilling my thoughts onto a page to the symphony of crashing waves, gulls, and release.

The daydream of casting those thoughts from my silly brain into the sea under the guise of freedom in a bottle lost iteslf in the wind, and I was glad for my hidden fingertips.

I decided that walking forward was the only rational and responsible thing to do...
that's what they say anyway, isn't it? Those theys with their infinite and unquestionable knowledge are a bit smothering some days. I think they would be better suited for that bottle, the one I set to sea. But I sometimes find it at the bottom of the one I am drinking from. It's a bit discouraging most days.

So I am falling asleep in class, finding it a lot better than reality, but the only thing keeping my eyes alive is the thought of you on those sandy beaches. Not so much without me, but scaling them alongside those who fought against us for so long. But I suppose it only makes sense now that truth has cast its bittersweet net. And so does my decision to keep this forward motion intact and hope for a foresty hideaway out of state, rather than the very place I may find you all over again.

Someday I will catch my breath and forget that it still holds your words like an afterthought.
Someday I will find home in myself and take your place in my ribcage.
But until then, I move for the sake of motion and write words that you'll never read or care about.

wonderful.