There was a time where I had to drown myself. I drowned myself in a bottle to get out of the pool of sorrow. I jumped into any other raging river that I knew would pull me under. Broken up in my head, broken in my mind. Any other kind of pain felt better than the internal screaming that haunted my dreams. The reason I'm telling you this, if you even still love me. Is I have one question to ask if you still want to be with me. Please don't let me drown. Don't take my trust and love and throw it away. The person of my past is always one step behind me. And Sweetheart, I don't think I could take another jump into what looks like a puddle but turns into the ocean.
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First Starlight of Summer
Your whole being is constituted by yearning. You miss the stars but have never seen a fully-realized night sky sparkle to life before your eyes. You write things, funny but short but profound, emulating the archaic cosmos that turns by its own unknowable calculus emulating love in all its celestial glory turning in that same cryptic way, but fully know neither and hardly know both, and it feels disingenuous, so you write about writers. It feels vaguely masturbatory, but it’s funny but short but profound and it impresses the people around you enough, so you run with it forever until you can’t anymore.
By Steven Christopher McKnight3 days ago in Fiction
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