cry

 

i won't cry 

unless you cry 

sectioned off under the lights. another stage

black tights and vests with shiny buttons

midnight blue

boots laced up 

awaiting your direction 

heaving chest of breath

inflection

in opposition to certain

death

#katyamills

Journal # 10.11.2016

i got all your friendliness, you made me soft in the abdomen for us, we could have shared a smoke and a crazy secret, a kind of bluetooth pair. vital was the origin and splitting off the infinitive, in a low-pitched bad news lesion in motion. i wish they had been there, the ones bobbing between bookcases with their fingers at their lips. but it was only me and you, clicking with exclusion. the time has been measured and planned in your head, now you needed only to conduct an orchestra of one. i was in great demand, apparently, before i stumbled off in tails tattered, in league with papers, my reaction mute, understated, in shadows long and growing... my darkness, unwanted, degraded in your spotlight.

once i got back to my dear beloved light of my life, well, i had some trouble it is true, pulling tooth was blue, but my man spoke of god and my friend she spoke of other important good things to do, and yes i undressed. yes i took my silence and rest, the blonde mouse he showed white belly up for trusted scratching. catfish hung back in the shadows. when i got myself up i rose up, i felt real, i wasn't any such pale as the spotlight made out, i wasn't any bit angry toward you or the world, vitality was mine again in the doing what needed to be done. another usual kinda day. the kind i keep then to myself, and to myself a secret melody.