facts and dams

last night. sitting in the kitchen with a jug of sangria and the boys.

realizing i really like living with boys over girls.

wheezy pug dog on one knee. boogie staring into my face.

and there's still so much inside this barnacle. a little overflowy. and my mouth is sometimes a dam that has to hold it all back.

i'm ok with that if you are.

but sometimes. i just want to flood.

you know?

but i know futility. and it doesn't even hurt. facts don't hurt like they once did.

[ you are ] so much more. so much less. and not just words scrawled on the inside of my skull.

and forward i go.

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