Open Mike
<< 7:13 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 06, 2004 >>
Swings that slice through the open air so beautifully. Chains coated in ice extending from higher bars. The gate was opened. I stumbled. I tripped. I recovered. 18 degrees outside and I�m walking toward said destination. My hair was frozen in the air today and a man on the street asked if I was freezing without a hat on. No. Not really. That bone moon in the sky is smiling a crescent. The Moon Child is bowing out for the time being. I�m glad I quieted the yelling of all your past selves. But honestly I�m getting so lost in my present. And I can�t even begin to explain it. It is irrational and very temporary.

Nothing exploded. Nothing went awry. But I�m paranoid as fuck. �Breathe, babe.� I want your voice in my house.