Marketing Team in full force. Sales deck all set for the Pitch. Events presentation was pretty on queue. Eastwood bound on a rainy afternoon.
It was a tricky road Jaimee was driving. I was on her right. Life is but a thinning thread. It was head-on. The weight of wreck. The thin thread. And my mangled self. A dashboard burning cold. I didn’t die that day. Or for a minute i thought i was. And may be somehow i wished i did.
Four years ago, On that road, in that car. Crashing down. This song was playing.
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
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