lets push things forward

The night he broke.

Maybe it was the to die for sex or perhaps it was the humid thunderstorm heat. Or it could have been simply the way I walked, all crooked-kneed. But, he broke. Fell in front of me into three million miniscule pieces. I puffed on my cigarette. I felt this was my life, constantly. A record that continuously repeated. Except, each time it repeated it was the same song, just a different track. I puffed my cigarette while choking on every tear. Tear choking, like teardrops going up the wrong pipe. A reaction I have become very familiar with lately. It repeats. Like a fucked up broken record. I died again for the 3rd time this month.

I bring myself away from the environments that are considered danger zones. I take a quick holiday. I feel like everything chases me. The ticks, the boys, and most of ALL, the tears. I keep waiting for it to get easier in this general area. I'm tired of this type of discussion. I'm tired of this particular sex. And most importantly I'm tired of this typical typical tear. I was told I gave up. On love that is, even if its not you-me love. I gave up. I can not fall in love. I will not close my eyes. I will not call you back. I cannot do the smurf.

I have to stop switching from third person to first.

I keep saying that maybe your going to be the one who saves me, after-all. I think its true. I think that you have all the power in the world to do so. Regardless of how it takes its turn. By now, you should of somehow realized what you gotta do.

I keep dreaming about tidal waves. Huge tsunami like waves. So ready to engulf me and kidnap me into the beautiful inviting sea. Although I keep escaping it, with absolute no time to spare. I just make it. Safe sex is great sex.

where is. MY mind? maybe I left it somewhere between reality and 230 west 27th street?
Keep your coins, I want change.