i miss you
remember me? do you? in ten years, maybe? or ten years ago? maybe 15. i’m sorry.
i said it then, and i’ll say it again: “beauty i have worshipped you” – i found that quote in some ripped up poetry book i stole from my high school’s library back in ’90. it’s always in the back of my head – this phantom “beauty” i’ve been chasing. i guess you could say it sort of keeps me going, you know? i may just be referring to the way music makes me feel. and all of my secrets, what they do to me, too. beauty is a sickness with myriad medicines that may or may not kill you. the things i will never admit to are a beauty i won’t describe, maybe. maybe they’re poems or a lost lover in a space suit swinging a tennis racquet at my universe, propelling me where? you tell me.