18th and dolores

you're suspended in this second, but do you know i've already gone? i hold myself still and pace around in my head. i look at everything but you: the cracks in the cement pavement, the man crossing at the red light, the blades of grass damp from the morning's rain.

every word is a failure of speech. i hear you speak and i hear myself respond, but it's all just in the name of stalling for time that we no longer have.

"you seem different today."

who knew you'd be the most disappointing of them all.