dry

the words feel dry in my mouth tonight.  it's not flowing in any way. i don't feel like i have anything to say, or any way to say it, or any way to tell people to give me a job, or give me a chance, or give me a moment.

oh, little chicken, you're barking up the wrong tree again. just go back to sleep, because you, and your little impossible dreams are not going to get you anywhere. you might dream it real, but you are small, and invisible, and you will sleep alone again tonight, like last night, and tomorrow.

not that i'm bound to this, or that it's a real outline of who or what i am. i don't believe i am worthless or unlovable or unloved.  just right now, i feel isolated and stuck, and like i have forgotten how to get where i am going. or even why i am going there. i get caught up in the magic of my own deceptions, this thrilling tail chasing glee, circles in the mud, giggles and fleeing my own time and heart, and then i stop, and i am here, and i am left, silent and alone again.

i'm not trying to fill a space. i just wonder if i'm left looking for things in ridiculous places, or if my idealism is constantly misplaced.  i feel like i've been awake for years when it's been a day, and i feel like i'll never feel that shuddering shrugging joy of slipping away into another human being again mutually.  you are being stupid, little chicken, you know this. close your eyes, open up, stretch out and wait. and wait.

but i am tired.