Thoughts of a Schizo in Love

  Sunset.  Daybreak.  Minute melts into minute.  Same hours that the unseen walk.

  Those were the hours I draped myself in the burnt yellow glow of street lights.

  Those were the times I made it into tomorrow in the rain.


  Help me put this all together.


  I’m not sure how I got here, or where here is, really. 

  But I’m happy.


  I can’t tell you the shape of things, even when I try to.  I see the shadow of my hair falling, I hear strumming.  My body feels worn in marvelous ways. 

  I’m a little hungry, but not starving.

  I remember tonight in colors, and moments of fragmented clarity. 


  So, who am I today?


  Does it matter? 


  Should I cry?



        I’ll drink instead.


  Or drink down this delicious man, sitting right across from me.


  Maybe I should just breathe in the moment like the purest cocaine. 


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