A little somethin, somethin'

I came into this not expecting much. Maybe a free ride. I never questioned your motives or wondered aimlessly about your whereabouts. I had given you something that I granted only a select few. I wrapped this something in ribbons and bows and stored it in my strawberry shortcake shoebox, along with other prized possessions. Sometimes i'd store empty cigarette boxes there but only sometimes. I took this something with me when we were together. I was going to invest in a vault or a safe box but the economy is going nowhere fast and I am without a job. Did I tell you I got fired? Well, that's besides the point. I'd allow this something to see the light, but only if the moment was of the essence or if there was a good movie playing on HBO. This something loved to watch 'Me and you and everyone we know', it loves Miranda July. So when you decided to relinquish all ties with me this something took offense. I tried to explain to this something that such is life and change is inevitable, (well at least that's what I heard). But this something was relentless and wouldn't give up. I called your phone because this something wanted to hear your voice one last time. You had one of those automated voicemail things, with the stupid 'you have reached 555-5555.' (I wouldn't put your number on the world wide web, i'm not that scorned). So this something started evaporating. And this something isn't something that typically evaporates, more often it just changes form. This something wanted me to tell you that it's no longer around. It decided to give birth to another something that I could use. And I get to use this baby something and transcend it, and share it with other human beings. Human beings that will cherish this something. This something is actually a virtue, well if it isn't it should be. This something has a street name, a more recongizable name if you will. This something is typically called "trust" and it can be lost in an instant if it's not handeled with the utmost care. You lost this something and it you can't get it back. Not even if you beg. Although what a treat that would be. A nice change of pace.

Honest to blog.

It's longevity that I lack.
I can't connect the dots.
Not to mention I can't be the the last off this sinking ship.
Not again.
I have a mind of my own but I lent it to someone.
I can't recall the name.
But I did leave a return address.
Worried sick, I'll take my guilt to go.
Hold the inquiries please.
I'm not always right but sometimes I am.
If you could accept that then we could finally move forward.
If only an inch or two.
These small steps, they do add up.
I'll tell mom you called.
And I'll tell sister that you'll write.
Sorry for being that shrinking violet.
Camoflauged in the background.
That tortured sould that ironically didn't endure much torture.
It's all for the autobiography she said.
But you can't fake true experiences.
That's what she's learning.
I'll make my bed and get out of your hair.
I'm sorry for stealing your money, your precious momentos.
I'm sorry for filling my air sacs with all that cigarette smoke.
I'm getting eaten alive by misqitos.
That has to count for something, right?
Right?
I know you are scared of me migrating so far away.
But i've never been so sure in my entire life.
My head is in the clouds and my feet are on the ground.
None of this was just in "spite" of you.
Let's make a pact.
Here and now.
I'll be the daugher, you be the father.
And with that the real journey begins...

Eternally yours, Madison Taylor Weigand.