I swear to God Amy Walker said the line "I wish I was tired of you," to me one day. And I think that sums up our relationship rather nicely. We were two screwed up individuals who kind of recognized comraderie in each other, but freaks can never be friends for long. It just exacerbates everything. I don't know if that's true, but that sure applied in our case.

It ended badly between us, our friendship. It fractured and then never quite resurfaced after bubbling down. It was always there, like a ghost in a mansion, a quiet presence that occassionally was filled with noise.

She once told me that I was the first friend she had ever felt she could be truly herself around, and she wished she could be tired of me. After me, a lot of her friendships seemed more open, but who knows? Really? I haven't a clue.

"I want to be tired of you..." (black)car & black(night) 75mph 2hrs 15min prior midnight with thick down street rhythms asphalt: (yellow) like a blur all the white way home. every single second gone, cannot stand to be lost inside this need to belong. "...but I cannot" time drunk on the fog gently hazed and not a star to breathe deep into our lungs. "I will leave..." music new beat catches: laser light shattering click thump sliding gently along into ears of listening no one. trees melt (their) dark and die seconds after birth our green vision and no one looks, nor can name anything, anymore, besides in general terms of generic (quality). "...if you want me to..." sliver of sound and both heads turn, gone before... into the road behind... "What do you want me to say?" 75mph for 1hr 27min, deaccelerate to a mere 74 to pass midnight as though it was a red faced little child and we all had (grey) died. with a heart beat like forever, (we know) the day is over and we can both feel the unquestioned lips lying open and waiting to speak. "I will back away." what can one say? what can one need? silence creeps up and the clock straight up strikes as though faced with just as much life as it can handle... just like everyone. just, yeah... funny like that, huh? I dream...and I dream... tired as the day could possible be long and the road still goes on, all the way home...

This poem written by W. Doug Bolden.

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