January 2010
3 posts
One life to live one day at a time One hand to lend One hand to bind Something new Watching the sun burn blue Travis what, Travis who I’m really bad with names (bang) One
The freeway at night, rolling like a wave that never breaks, and I lay in bed, twirling into a pit of fear, a sea of sound, somewhere, out there, reminding me that I can never escape, a weary world, built by man.
It wasn’t until 20 years later, as I stood in my kitchen cranking the can opener around the rim of a chili can that I realized she had actually tried to kill herself. I was 8 at the time and a kid from the neighborhood; no name, just some faceless head in my memory, a mound of tight blonde curls came approaching me as I sat in the empty street fastening a pair of rollerblades. “My...