I used to walk on the outsides of my feet

Walking in these shoes is like walking in my old skin. Putting on a suit that at one time I forced myself stiffly into. A show for something close to approval. Now I put it on and I recognize how poorly it fits and how uncomfortable it all is.

Songs music dance dance foot taps eccentricities and transparencies. Difficult rhythms and motions side to side round and round. It always keeps going this kind of changing sound.

Last night when we were talking I could tell you didn't know. You looked at me as if you saw clarity. It bulged through your wide blue eyes, begging me to believe you. Attempts to try to control an exchange purely incontrollable. Did you not learn the first time that this kind of confrontation doesn't work? When you force something onto the stage it's naked and undone and unprepared, and everything and everyone looks uncomfortably the other way.

We are no better than each other. We beg for something more when there is seemingly nothing more coming. We are terrified of silence, space, stillness. The second we grasp it we tear it into a mess of pieces, and then tossing it like a handful of party confetti, we leave it as a pile on the ground. Garbage unconcerned with us. We do this to gain something, or to die a little.

The pulse the pulse the pulse pounding pounding pounding you are wrong but you say you know the truth, you're seeing all sides. All sides 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 and 9. But how do you know when you are seeing through only two eyes? It could be lies and then where would you be? Would you be out, down, lost? Because you were looking every direction but ahead.

I want to tell you but I don't have the choice. The mistakes you make are your own. The stiff suit has grabbed you and you aren't able to move. I see myself in that side of you, and I want to warn you, scream it to you in your sleep because maybe if I found you in your dreams and we had a nice conversation over two cups of tea you would believe me and you would know how I know and you would feel all the mistakes I had made before that are pleading you to see what is actually about to happen to you and you would stop. You would stop stop stop and see your feet walking towards the edge of that street and the road on the other side that would only rip you in both directions if you tried to cross it. But you are walking walking walking and not stopping, because that stillness is terrifically more frightening than that highway up ahead.