Pretty girls are my weakness. Saying that is like saying I like chocolate. It’s no discovery of epic proportions but at least admitting it is something I can hold onto.
Pretty girls are my weakness and I’ve got nothing else to add, except everything else that will follow.
I froze. I froze when I saw you because I didn’t expect to lay eyes on you again and when I did it felt like winter set in an instant. It had been coming for a few weeks now but it jumped the barrier and made itself at home.
Have you ever poured salt on a patch of ice? It makes a crackling sound the way milk in a bowl of rice krispies does. That’s the sound I heard when I saw you. A deep patch of ice being melted slowly in an uneven way. Sinking down to the bottom and exposing what was hiding beneath.
I jumped off the wagon and seemed to have left my words on it. The wheel fell off and spilled them all over the road and now I’m trying to gather them up mixed in with mud and grass and whatever else is on the road.
Now my words aren’t lost, they’re just harder to come by. I don’t know if its your stare or your presence or what but I’m not starting off a new year in a new and better way with them. My words are always so fickle, it seems. They come as they please and they do what they want.
Troublesome little things, words are sometimes.