I don't care where, just far

11:45, 12:03, 1:15, almost time, dread rises up inside and sticks in my throat as if someone cut it from the inside. Ten minutes warp into an hour; it’s here, everything off, stand up, fake a smile. I push my way through bits of lingering conversation, children talking about Christmas presents. I looked over to see where you were, I lose myself, transfixed by the way your mouth moves, it’s like there is no one else in the room right now. I’m guarding Kronos , I laugh, me guarding the king of heaven, father titan, 1:30, reluctantly he lets me pass.

I crash through the door and quick step to the double door, the slender handle greets me, cold, always cold. I round the corner and try and really get my feet under me.

“Wait up”

My back to you, my eyes close for a moment. A crooked beautiful smile at the corner of your mouth, I should have ignored it, kept going. You’re losing parts of your armor Brandon, you don’t even know her. I stopped in the hall, it was glaring white bathed in scuff marks and harsh halogen. I remember you walking towards me, one moment you were an unfocused image, blurred. A few heartbeats later there you were, God I wanted to look away, the freckles over your nose displayed like some beautiful unknown constellation.

What are you reading?

I don’t really remember what I told you, at that moment I didn’t care. Every time your eyes would find mine I forgot myself.

I’m sitting in my car asking if it’s time to go yet. Click once, click twice, finally the car catches and fires up. My timing has always been off, no time for that though huh? 103.1 thankfully comes in, I enter the maze that leads me back to my house.

It feels like the beginning again, I’m always amazed how much solitude there can be in Los Angeles, I guess you have to look for it. I’ve crossed over Sepulveda; my throat gets a little dry, just a passenger on this poisonous concrete snake. I really don’t want to go home, but there is nowhere to go, I stop off at the 7/11, maybe I’ll throw a pity party tonight, seems appropriate.

I’m home, I remember closing the door and resting against it for a moment. 2:21, 3:33, 5:05. How long have I laid here? I feel for a pulse on my neck, I ‘m asleep.