Saturday, November 21, 2009

Friday, November 13, 2009

Because

I am a mountain, packed neatly into this tiny mole-hole, and sometimes, a tiny piece of music will shake me at my core, threatening imminent release, an inevitable disaster. Sometimes when I am singing along obnoxiously, alone, in my car, to a song because it feels good, I will lose my breath, and not be able to catch it back. Secretly, I am not a rock. My wife already knows this. I try to hide it from her, but with a mere smirk and a sentence, she can bring these walls down and destroy me. I am no match for that.


I am soft inside like the back of a baby's head. Don't tell.