About growing into Santa lies

Prescott told me "it wasn't okay to lie when you were little because back then our parents fixed our mistakes." And I looked in his eyes, for once, to hear him say, "But since it's on our hides now, since we're looking out for our own skin...we only gotta tell 'em what they need to know."
It's true. It's true, so much that I need to repeat it twice. I need to repeat it twice because that's how I believe things. Once it's instilled in you you never question why anyone grows up at all, why people abandon you when you really need their help.
"But isn't it..." I took the moment to think. "Isn't it that, when you're older, you..." Because I've never been good with words outside, I didn't finish that line. Instead I placed my head on his head, my arm on his arm, and waited for the stars to fade.
Of course we fix our own mistakes, but some of those mistakes were- "It isn't true, what they say about growing older." He interrupts but it's all right because my thoughts never lead anywhere anyway.
And I wonder, "What do they say about growing older?" until he lays back in the snow and laughs.
Laughing like it's funny, how we all crash and burn.
Like the gutter is the biggest joke, and all you can do is laugh.
"Whatever they fucking feel like, princess." And I guess that makes nonsense.

None of it's even real.

Road trip

Acoustic song on the radio, playing behind her words she says, "On day one we had coffee. We drove out of the city in the sun, and past the shiny buildings. I remember singing to the radio and driving over endless roads. At the fall of night we'd pulled into a motel, showered, and slept, waiting because that was only the first day."
The camera shakes as the car goes over a bump, and the girl holding the gear giggles. You hear, "Oops," and "shhhh."
It's only the beginning.

Aware

There aren't words that
look farther.

Past the surface
you really aren't aware what's waiting.
Past the next bend,
we're blind.

The first kiss she ever really got was from the sweetest heart on earth.
He said, "But I hope that was special, because it was one of a thousand more to come." For an almost second of  grief, she worried. But he had his hand on her neck. "Darling," he told her. "I want them all to come from me."

She never expected that chance to be stolen
by the only constant in life.

Everyday

If I could spend forever listening to Buddy Holly
writing something focused
and humming
then I think
it would be so much easier to feel the bones in my body
rather than the skin.

New socks day

Here is silver rumble
we tremorr in our socks
we've eaten something bitter
among the tiger fluffs
Here is something poisoned
to kill our very feet
the mould we grow amongst our thoughts
as grey as city sleep.

Who said we'd get
the newest or the best?
Nothing stretched our future see
we get black or white tv.

The dream with the girl in the dress and the tights.