5.45am

I give up. Where's that voice gone away to? Lost behind the turmoil, trying so hard to fight against the storm. I haven't heard that voice at all. Not yet. I don't need it to come from outside. That won't help at all. I've built myself up too thick against you all. I don't believe a word you say. I'm shaking against the flood; my walls won't stand much longer. They've been crumbling, crumbling, crumbling. One look sends me unexpectedly, rapidly falling back into the dark. I never imagined I'd be here right now. The song tells me to keep singing, but I still think I've failed. Still shuddering. Still wondering what's wrong with my structure. I need that voice. 'Stop clenching your jaw. Stop biting your lip. You're not over.' I am, I am, I am. But I can't wait to hear it sing to me, softly leading me back to where I belong. Wherever. Take me with you, please.

"I think I'll die another day,
There's so much more to know."

veritas

Real truth - is there a fake? - plays behind the brightness of a smile. It shimmers in gold, perfect and whole. It has lasted through the years, unscathed, battering through the dark. It sits inside and out beyond the fence. It's in the passing of a word, but mostly in a laugh: loud, clear, and sparkling. Glittering upon my ears, it makes me smile to hear it. It rarely comes when you call - perhaps because we're always calling the wrong way. It might disguise itself behind a muffle, but we hear it nonetheless. It's hard to keep inside when it wants so badly to come out and play. It's in the bold, barefoot run across the forbidden grass and the breath of air sucked in after. It's in the whisper of a secret shared behind tiny, cupped hands and the giggling gasps that follow. It's in the pure fantasy of a tree house adventure, sprinting through the gnarled brown of bark and wild forest overgrowth and the high shriek of joy piercing the sunglow. It's in the outburst of happiness, let loose in the wind, rushing down the freeway, giving way to the brightest laugh, widest smile, truest feeling of utmost light. How many times do we get a glimpse? We have forever to find it, sitting there in plain view, waiting for us to open.

A truest truth makes sense to me, you, her, and them. In cow french, 2057, yesterday, above, and in the dark. It passes from one to the other, unbridled, free. It's in the stars and the sun and the pebble and the ocean. You touch your shore and I'll touch mine. Can you feel it? It moves, slowly crawling into our crevices, over our toes, making us shiver. The tide pushes forward, pulling us nearer. We sway, staring into the expanses of forever. Take a second to blink, and dive in.

dinner time

I didn't want sauce. I changed my mind after I tasted the fish. I got water to wash down my food. I gagged behind the wall, where you couldn't see.
I asked for a smaller piece the next time. Did I not like it? Of course I liked it, I just wasn't hungry.

The house smelled of fish for days.