Tuesday, February 2, 2010

soaked at 430pm

soaked at 430 am. I was standing under our new apt's roof.. I have the keys in my pocket.

the rain stopped on my eye lashes. it just kinda hung there, for some reason it all was slow motion in front of me. or maybe it was just slow. in front of me.
the rain was pouring on to the trees on the streets. for a brief moment, or maybe not so brief, when the leaves fall from the trees with the rain, it all was slow motion in front of me.

me soaked at 430 am, with the half wet cigarette that I can taste the rain on the filter, standing under our new apt's roof. I can feel the weight of the keys in my pocket.

I think I really would like to think that if i keep walking, I can get through the rain and I will get home. but I wish this was home. that I can just fucking turn around and use the keys in my pocket to open the door. and it's home. which it will be. soon. if I can keep walking through the rain. i will get home.

wet and dry is all very blurry now in front of me, since I got these drops of rain just hanging on my eye lashes. some how it all made sense, with the cigarette dripping in my hand the water rolling down my cheek for another brief moment i kinda just became part of the rain.

it was all just so fucking rock n roll.
it was all slow motion in front of me.

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