It has finally come to my attention that there are things that must be held accountable.

A ngry wor ds. Failing me m ories still holding certain people under water. Miles and mile s and mil es th at s e p e r a t e perfect friends. A ti ny life tha t's starti ng to make sense. An old hand me d own guitar . Coming to terms with the lac k of conf rontat ion , or the boredom that follows. The perf ection of a dream. Destination unknown . Fallow ideas . Black and whites, and dusty albums. A stolen Scrabble letter that I want to give back (with an apology attac hed). Lyrics that come Epic pro p ortions. Th ese idol hands. The conversations I have with the moon ev ery night. Un re quited love. Destination unknown. All the candles I burn. The pirate ship casting lines. Music that never stops repeating itself. The age. Singing myself to sleep . That hole in my pocket . Leave a message. The co tton heart I've sewn on my th rift store jacket . Destination unknown. I can hear them pulling a ch air out on a hardwood floor . Some one is still wanting to hold my hand. Late nights with the ghost that used to be myself . Remi nding him that he wasn't a horri ble person. R ea s suring him of the future...

destination unknown.

I could keep typing but he has coffee made...and I do want to try this new creamer I got. There is also this little problem of flipping the vinyl over. But I could talk about these things to him, I suppose? I never get any sleep when he comes around.