writing again

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racing a train home
feeling oh so very in control with you
feeling oh so very out of control having to write about you

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in retrospect. so easy in retrospect--if only we could live our lives backwards--maybe that's why we having books? (teachers, friends) in retrospect when i stop writing, it means i have fallen out of love (is this how you like it--i remember being so amazed) and then this is how i know i'm sunk. it's not that my heart races when i see you (it does) that my stomach drops when you're near (ugh it does) that i smell you everywhere (you smell kind of generically, so there's that too) and everything reminds me of you (it's not all that) it's that i'm writing. i'm forever needing to write about you. on the backs of envelopes. sharpie on scrap paper at work i cannot. stop. writing. and i forgot how much i love this feeling (writing, having feelings) it's who i am (can't stop won't stop) feeling something--won't call it love, can't call it love. (it's lust, if anything or just a feeling) but it's the writing i'm in love with, i'm in love with this feeling that makes me want to write. i wish i could just thank you for making me want to write.

not for all the other random shit. that's kind of whatever.

but the words. the words! how thankful i am that the words have returned!

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