from this low sappy love song and wishful thinking and getting my hopes up and the let down after let down, but from the confusion of the what-used-to-be- conflict, and the what could haves, and maybe what should haves, and the worries, and the memories, and the futures, and the friends, and the lovers, and the parents, and the families, and the schools, and the phones, and the music, and the screens, and the lights, the lights, the lights...
the lights need to be dimmed, I need to have a block in my head, a soft comforter and mattress, and a pencil and a piece of paper, and words pouring from the leaky faucet in my head, dropping on to the page I would be grasping with my hands..
\ from,everything,
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