all of my best moments have been alone

carpeted bedrooms in front of the mirror
the tops of roofs

running deep in the forest, mile 37, empty of calories
the world opened up and showed me something
laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing
i cannot believe this
what an incredible thing

so then what am i looking for?

don't i have my answer right there?

i can more reliably find exaltation on a 10 mile run
than i can between the sheets of some first grade teacher

a lawyer, a writer, a girl who works at a bakery

drumming wildly on the steering wheel, a dark highway, flecks of spit
bicycle pushed incredibly, music blaring, certain of death and very not afraid

with women i'm so concerned how they'll see me
i'm so changed trying to be what i think that they want
trying to have their breath

choosing the words and the sounds that i make
the way i move my stomach
i want them to love me so i lie and i cheat and tell stories

pretending i'm an artist
weaving my web

i should probably just go to bed early
and save everybody the fucking trouble

but i know i'm not going to



atm1