the story is all over you

9:30 AM and i believe i will go crazy. will the end of the day ever come?i peaked the sun through the blinds just a tiny bit. the coffee's temperature has dropped, and grounds float to the top. just like that, i am at a brass realization. did you know you could release again? it didn't feel like much of a release. it feels like being trapped, choking over a watery grave. and now you wake up with crusty ducts and eyes, that if you look close enough, have tiny red cracks. get close and you'll see it all.
i was never very good at a well-thought out plan. it never happens until it really does happen. i was never good at consistency between my "i's" and my "you's" but isn't all the same anyway?
did you ever love someone so much, so hard, that it makes you never want to love again? you rather get trampled and beaten and never feel again, because let's face it, you'll be back underneath heels before you know it.
i'm not a very good writer. or a very good speaker. or a very good friend. or girlfriend. or daughter. or sister. or guitar player.
i took lessons for two and a half years. listen to me play. it sounds like i just picked the guitar up. i have three guitars and a ukulele, and how i wish i could play them. make a song on their lonely strings. they're so beautiful. my spanish classical guitar never lost its scent. its strings are worn though, and when i look at those worn strings, i feel a little better about myself. i feel a little better about myself when my shoes are dirty in and when my clothes look alive. looks like i've been somewhere.
you know i never really thought i was a very good writer. i can only spill honesty. all i ever thought i had was honesty and raw letters that could fill up a page and i can call that truth. its tangible. and now i don't even have that. i'm not a liar, nor a deceiver. nor am i a troubadour. then what are i?
a crow with a broken wing? is it supposed to sound coarse? is it supposed to have metaphors? is it supposed to hit you in the face with something hard, like how love hits you. and you know i never thought that was true, until it actually happened to me.
the exact moment of love puncturing your artery, because that what it does. it jolts you. you feel something burst with rushed blood. that's how it felt. all your crispy realizations just come crashing into place. the stars align and the moon is a light. and the insides of your ears buzz. that buzz you hear when everything gets a too little quiet. over a lemon world you can hear the moon shining. you can feel both her eyes piercing back into yours and she's not only looking at them, but through them. into me. would you really rush out of there?