midnight motorway noises
11 April 2007
you and i, old friend.
Something jars between us. I wake up in the afternoons now with the tail-ends of American dreams fogging up my sleepy head.
I told you all my secrets; whispering them, giggling, as you listened quietly. Those secrets evolved, pushing against you, forcing you to adapt until neither me nor my bag of stories slotted into the space you'd cleared for us all those years ago. Finally, inevitably, I quit - bundling up my stories and heading for elsewhere.
"Wait" I say, more as a description of days to come than as a request. Behind me, you fold your arms as I wander off.
I told you all my secrets; whispering them, giggling, as you listened quietly. Those secrets evolved, pushing against you, forcing you to adapt until neither me nor my bag of stories slotted into the space you'd cleared for us all those years ago. Finally, inevitably, I quit - bundling up my stories and heading for elsewhere.
"Wait" I say, more as a description of days to come than as a request. Behind me, you fold your arms as I wander off.
gillyscribbles, at 12:08 am
