you wonder if too much convenience will make you forget what it is to struggle or how nice it feels to just sail with the wind and you want to believe in fairytales and happy endings with a pocket full of daisies, slip into a favorite memory, and stay on the line just to catch the last bit of echoes but no matter how many times you practice remembering, it never comes back, not like it was and you think you’re waiting but you’re spinning just like the rest of the world and you still cross your fingers, toes, hands, and everything you can when wishing a-bout, make clippings of all the places you want to see, all the things you want to hold, and every shade you want to become one day but forget how much time is used up saying next time next time next time then realize maybe we’re all just backwards people doing backward things and that the most not-so-nice people you’ll ever know might be the ones serving cheesy smiles at your very own table since you see bad things happen all round and get so scared, so scared- because sometimes it’s the possibility that hurts a-lot (it’s what the entire Mad Season does to you doesn’t it) so you dodge the gaze and camouflage when the spotlight strikes but then you wonder if too much convenience will make you forget what it is to live or how nice it feels to just be...

-u.p.