Between Vintage & Old (You)

there is no barrier
between vintage and
old

I remember you

there were tears while on the toilet
and we argued with each other
about love
and I sat clutching the wall between
the floor and the shower
there was always so much
hair in the drain

you just sat there on the toilet
crying
tearing and streaking across the
walls

there was no love left inside of
you or maybe there was no life
left inside of you
or maybe there was both
and both were gone

I remember you

no barrier left between
the vintage and the old

after the wall I left for the trail
and walking along with headphone
eyes I played myself a song from
the past

I came back and you were gone

retrospect says you were probably off
with him then making what sense
you could of how you had changed

I was still on the floor then
between the floor and the ceiling
debating just how one gets off the rock
in such a fever

I remember you then

by the time we were back
neither of us were crying

there were no tears left to run away from

we sat there and said our goodbyes
on a basic

and months later through a sorrowful
minute of sex and the customs officers

both of which led me to the donut shop

and I was there alone for six months
until the call

then you left

went off on some highbrow dream
of seeing the ocean

the one we always lived around

the barrier between vintage
and old

joshuarobertlong:

“Lonely by the light of the table”

A little late night revisiting.

“Last Smiles”

“Following”

“Following”

“Bringing Her All Back Home”

“Bringing Her All Back Home”

Future

we
are
left
to
believe
that
the
best
days
are
ahead
of
us.

but
where
were
these
feelings
last
Christmas
when
I
had
to kiss
my
unborn
on
the
forehead
and
tell
them
that
the
grandmother
I
wanted
you
to meet
will no
longer
be around.

“Making Little Sense [a Stranger]”

let me begin by first taking my shoes

off. It’s been quite a long day here and

the sun seems to show no signs

of letting itself become absorbed in

the runoff.

you were correct in pointing out the

size of the life behind my eyes. I had

never actually been one to notice

anything similar to that before. it’s

like you knew the days that had

just passed, or at least how the days

that passed were played across

the board.

what is it that we look for in each

other?

we cannot all be Bruce just because

our feelings want to get in the way.

how do you think he feels when put

in a situation like that? it’s not as

though he is made out of good news

or truth or a hybrid of the two.

and now, one time, one time
or two—so desperate we move.

“Bedtime Mantra”

“Bedtime Mantra”

“Walking The Union Street Home”

“Walking The Union Street Home”

“Smoker Moment”

“Smoker Moment”

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