All Our Sinners

Tonight was epic, tick... tick... tick...

When silence is still you can feel the mildew of time. I'm not sure if that makes sense or if I just wanted to sound poetic, but that's how I feel. Driving home from work I saw accidents and burglaries down the street by the house that I pass by everyday on my way to school. A gay couple lives there behind an old old tree and today I saw a dozen police cars there.

I'm not sure what happened but it got to me... and this pit, these ingrown tumor of thoughts suddenly sucked in all of my emotions. I suddenly realized that the person I had been in love with is no longer inviting me to their house every weekend. That those unfinished feelings is what life is about and they will forever linger behind the old old tree. A life that (is very cliche) might have been.

If we had lived in that house would we have created a beautiful life one day? Would I have planted my sunflowers like I did in my backyard today? Would you have grown the heart of our home in the bedroom or in the kitchen behind the pans of herbs and spices? Rocking chairs by the parrot cages, pencils drawing their own conclusions, passion stirring in the mug of our hearts each morning, and sirens singing in the fate of our deaths.

I'm not in love with him anymore even though he showed me the best of my potential... or maybe I was going through the best of who I was at the time that I met him... Either way I'm not in love with him anymore... but it hurts to think or to feel the presence of another reality so very close, and see another dancing, flourishing, beating, breathing right in front of you.

I'm tired of thinking but I heard that something stirs in the rubble and that one day they're cutting down that old tree, because the burglar was caught there, stealing someone else's loved