I'm sleeping and stapling, stalling, playing tennis with Jenni until it all goes away. The clouds are rolling in again. All the trees are waiting until they outgrow the sidewalks or until someone comes to cut them down.
The actor playing the newsman reminds me of the boy I passed up. I've been in love for so long it's breaking me to pieces. I should be swimming but I'm wearing boys' track shoes with the spikes off. My imaginary friend is a skinny blonde Sebastian I'll never meet.
The only place I've seen that name is on a tombstone. I can't decide if I ought to buy black or gold or boots or the same shoes again. Can I tell you, can I show you, will you understand? No? Well, I didn't think so, and it won't hurt you, anyway.