There are constellations in me.

I fell into a vat of radioactive space dust and have been this way ever since. My power is that I appear completely powerless to you. The truth, however, is that I can see the crumbly seams of the stars, I can hear the rush of electrons in every one of your atoms (it's quite loud), I can stir things up inside your soul and you won't even realize it until one day you wake up and wonder what happened to the boy or girl that you once were. I can blow kisses at the back of your neck.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

For Your Eyes Only

Dear The Future,
By the time you read this it will already be too late. I will have already flown the coop, like a frustrated cupid. Don't try tracking me down either; whatever happened between us, it's all The Past's problem now.
I've met another, I'm not sorry to say. Her name is The Here, Now. Although the allure of your promises, broken, half-met, or just plain forgotten about, will always tug at me ( mostly in the dim-lit house of imagination, which was where your seductions were most successful) The Here, Now makes no promises nor excuses, justifications. She is content to accept me as I am, which, in the end is all a dream-drunk douche bag like me could ever want.

Yours no longer,
Marty McFly
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Sincere as well-intentioned lies.

That is all.