To me

there is nothing more natural than seeing my fingers dance across my computer keys.

the gracefulness to their flow never fails to astound me each time i create a new

document. it reminds me of how i long for the graceful movement i lack.

i hope my facade evolves into what i’d want it to be.

To me,

my words speak louder than your actions, due to the

faact that i cannot find the meaning to words anymore. even when i

curse and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. i wish i would

stop my doings but your touch reminds me of the meaning of what it is like

to live and breathe, so i continue to be what i loathe.

To me,

the cold breeze that rushes down broad street faster chills me

but i do not have the time to shiver, so i grit my

teeth and bear it. ‘tis how i was taught how to handle things the

right way but only continue to fail to see the many

faults of that move, considering my jaw feels like its

hinges are rusted and will break under the slightest amount of pressure.

To me,

driving gives me more comfort and anxiety than anything else

imaginable but how else am i going to be a nomad?

not by laying on a pillow in the middle of my floor and listening to the

wind call out for me, trying to lure me into the woods

without anything but a blanket draped around me like a cape,

for me to lay amongst the dead leaves like i am camouflaged.

To me,

stealing toothpicks feels like more of an offense than

loitering in the manoa shopping center taking

swigs from 40 ounces of virgin apple cider.

take in mind i still have minors i need to take

responsibility for and cannot afford for any chances to happen.

To me,

polyps on the back of my tongue burst blood and coffee

rushing between my teeth and dripping down onto my Docs,

leaving little brown stains on the worn leather.

the arthritis in my hands makes me feel like an old head

even though, by the time you read this, i will no longer be as young as i want to be