i was thinking maybe..October 10:I tried calling her today, butthe phone was left for sevenrings too long. Shedoesn't like, she is afraid ofdialing numbers and jewellery andthe sound of bugs flying tooclose to her ear.She probably would have laughedat the thought of dreaming theday away. Because she can't stop.She can't stop to meet me atthe rooftops. To meet me andhold my hand. To meet me andwatch the sky move sideways.October 16:Today I called him, to say, tosay that I wanted to drown,not in sorrows or swimming pools, but inthe ocean, because it's so peacefuldown there. Only I didn't. Ididn't breathe. Or speak. Ididn't
lemon cakethis house isn't made out ofa mess. this house ismade out of:a sinking bathroom floor because she sighs and ilose count. shower curtainsyou need to water and rustthat doesn't wash outof the tiles.it is made out of:a telephone made for hangingup because she doesn'twant to talk to her sister.and mirrors to remind youthatyou are a beautifulbrokenthing.it is made out of:sorry notes and scribbles anda windy day. it sits next tothe other houses made ofsecrets and sorrow and storiesand rooftops and bathroomtiles.it is made out of:kitchen tiles, too. they areblack and white and white andblack.