04 April 2014


sometimes i am reminded of who i was a long time ago
a ghost is the smallest element
i kept trying to use a line in a poem while driving from boise to nebraska
i used it
i wonder what life would be like if i was me again
see things that are a memory of a spec of my dedself
earlier today i was thinking about a time when my father kicked me
as i was on the ground trying to change into clothes for yard work
i wonder if he figured i would forgive him
we forget a lot of events in our lives
years and years if we try hard enough
it is no effort though
thats why its so hard
we see things painted inside of our skulls
this is when we had a good hunt
or when we cried in a ball on the floor

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