what does this mean again?

from the balcony.

i miss you.

unemployment.

pockets.

the familiar feeling of times spent in and out of them.

clean thoughts.

picking at a dried out clementine
while watching my favourite sweater
spin round and round.

i really don’t want to get old.

1001001.

“she didn’t text me back”. technology is so odd.
i too text, never thought i would.
just a natural progression I guess.

till death do us part.

watching the older lady adjust her husband’s toupee
brings me to tears.

domestic bliss.

the flirty stay-at-home dad jumps in the child’s wagon
to create a stir from the adoring moms. gross.

oh the power of music.

sitting on the subway eastbound, unmoving. strangely i am not annoyed. likely due to New Buffalo. usually, in a situation like this, i am fully prepared to rip off someone’s face. instead i sit calmly dreaming of wild flowers growing in the park, summertime when it melts into dark.