You Always Get Going

These eyes of mine are like the saucers, lost in the deep dish water that you keep for weeks in your sink; you'd never know what colour they are, you never let the water drain out.
And I sing to you softly from the corner of my bed, "Why didn't you come out to play tonight?. Why do you never get high with me?."
I'll chew on my lip and gaze at you like the next line you say will be sure to complete me, but i won't hear a word of it and I'll ask you the same thing again shortly. Tomorrow I'll wonder how I slept through the whole day and what we spoke about all morning. I'll try to remember if there was a reason for me to have started crying. I'll try to forget that I ever cried at all.
You'll leave me with some famous parting words like "You take care, kid" or "Be safe now." Something that makes me feel totally lost the second you shut the door; totally unable to deal with reality by myself the moment the latch clicks over.
I'll realise the come down hasn't quite begun to come down yet, and that this fragile way I'm feeling would be over sooner if I stop inviting you over, into my room and under these blankets.
Because you always have to get going... And lately you seem to go sooner than you come.



I wrote this in the middle of a long, long night/morning this Friday but after last nights events unfolded - it's almost like I had predicted what would happen over the next 24 hours.
Who'd of thunken? I surely did not.
Funny how that sort of thing happens. I even recall wondering what I was writing about when I started; and when I read it to PKD later that day.

In bed now watching some pretty lame (amazing) movies with Danni and some Dairy Milk chocolate. Pretty excited about going away in two weeks with PKD. Getting on a plane again will make me happy because it will feel like we're back on Eurotrip again. Huge plans for this week - this week is 'get life back on track and out of post holiday depression' mode.

x