wrote from beneath the sheets.

so last night i wrote from beneath the sheets:

bebeh...

through the letters - the many letters - written for the many others, i've noticed one constant.
you.

somewhere between the spiritual awakenings and the talks of camping,
i found exactly what i needed.
you.

i woke up this morning in little rock next to a styrofoam cup with remnants of parrot bay
and a cold side of the marriot bed.
where in the fuck were you?

somewhere 567 miles away wondering where i was.
and hopefully as lonely as i was.

somewhere around 5am before i left a trail of eeeeeeeeeeeeeee all across my computer screen
i wanted to call you and make a drunk confession:

you are worth my life, i think.
i almost died on the road to memphis last week,
but the sheet of clouds ten feet above the car reminded me of that night on interstate 10 three years ago.

the only constant is you.

so i wrote it all down.
and before my final blink, i started writing your name over and over, and it turned out like this:

braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

p.s. you'd love the sunset in little rock. i took a walk by the water, and went with the flow.

so last night i wrote from beneath the sheets.