colinpearson.com

salter bucks

i miss everything.

i miss covering my eyes to avoid seeing the stockings while my brother and i hustled down the hall to our parents room, at 6:50am, cause 7am was the absolute maximum of earliest wakeup. nobody argues 10 minutes on christmas morning, not even my dad himself.

i miss steve being smaller than me.
i miss grandpa's knee.
i miss the old swing in the old apple tree.

in our darkest holiday pauses, we all sometimes search for that deeper shade, that soul in the sandbox, that savior in the soup. but its never an easy catch, even with sharp hooks over salty waters. easy at the end of the glass, as long as the brass fills the present with the past. soapy skills on empty hills. this paragrapher is clearly ill and seldom still.

i miss getting music for christmas.

that's a big one. i miss new CD's.
having them, showing them off, and mostly, listening alone.
it used to be so fuckin hard to open those fuckers.
against sloppy rhymers trying for a peek.
sleek and simple and pimple free.
boulder tasty, and burping breeze.
damn, sam, it's still hard to open CD's.

i miss lindy.
and brent, and wader, and jon's basement.
and matt hudson's lies.
i miss meg already and she only went to bed about 5 times ago.
tomorrow we fly to vegas.

there's a bottom-out that im soon to feel.
a basement full of tilt-a-wheel.
all spinny and shit.
sold-out and dry.
an ass without a proper wipe.
sleeping in alleys and stealing tweets from me.
stubborn grass stains on solid soccer knees.
was it something i said?

til next time, be safe, and hug mom.

i miss red things and blue,
ghost stories turned true,
and when i cant sleep,
i mostly miss you.

posted by Colin # 3:09 AM

Tuesday, 27 December, 2011

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