Okay, starting over.
I just want to fall asleep on my parents' brown couch and apologize myself to sleep, forget everything I know and just start humming the words to all the songs I remember, only 90s hits and songs about self harm and sadness, songs about the way I never know how to be, songs about doing the right thing the wrong way, like all things, like all humans, like bad times, and making your middle children write right-handed. There's nothing wrong with prayer except when nobody's listening, and when Nobody is listening, and when nobody listens, I stutter, forget how to say the alphabet backwards, and talk in nonsense. Honestly, this is the only honest moment: I was driving through the roses on a two way street, but only going that way, and I felt the skin on my body. I felt the skin on my body. I feel nothing but that when the air gets weird, trees are too much tree, sky too blue to comprehend, all of it too much like something people don't think about God creating (even though aliens like us, we know better). Somehow, I feel like talking like this says more about how I feel than things that make sense, than words you know, than alphabets in order of appearance. My dearest, let me be the tears on your lips )though we've never seen our actor cry( because I like the way salt tastes, I like the way it feels when I can't escape confusion, when I know nobody reads anything I have to say, when I know I'm the only person who ever played that one game where you see how much you can do it without crying enough for somebody to hear it --- again, remember how you never asked? All I remember is how I'm done talking. The only thing that ever worked for me was silence. And I'm sorry.
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