My myth of a moment.

I dream in colour.
And my moments are born in a vacuum.

the circumstance. and the choice.
through bus rides and turnstiles. and episodes of Grey's anatomy.
through the grey that we wish we could all break down into black and white.
through goosebumps and rushes of adrenaline on the bridge.
I wish I could be the shrink who noone talks to at all.
through tear drops on the strand.
through ipod walks.
through black bars of chocolate

through conversations that have lasted. and the moments that built them.
we'll do it all.
through chasing my tail around my head.
for finding my own.
in between full-stops.
for the you and for the me I know because.
for the effort. for making the choice to make the effort.
for drifting away.
for all the insane questions that cloud beer evenings and sunday skype.
for learning to offer my seat. correction. seats.
for wanting my point of view back.

for not needing anyone.
for not needing anyone but reaching out?

I'm scared there will come a day when I won't be scared of losing you anymore.

if I ever tell myself enough, will everything be okay?

does standing water in a glass stagnate?

I always dream in colour.