Two little bastards & one in the middle.

June, July, and November all lived under the roof of September.
June was the baby.
July was the eldest.
November stuck in the middle.
The day June was birthed July wept like a baby and November bounced chubbily in glee.
Four years later September passed through an October.
July raised June and November played in a corner.

State attenti, è tranquillo.

2:49am: Cannot sleep.

3am: Sit on the porch and quietly sing the songs my Grandmother used to when I woke to bad dreams.

Before the coating broke.

It’s an odd feeling to be told the same thing so many times.
Odder still is feeling the truth that someone else means.

It seems like it should be a weight but,
it is feather light.

But after it all, I felt the heavy that comes with being viewed.
The genuineness made me lose my balance.

Quite literally.