This Feels Like a Nightmare.

sixtysomethingdays. when does it get easier?

We're Just Livin', Making Being Here Enough

All images © Emily E. Johnson

Honey, This Town Ain't Big Enough For Us Both

All Images © Emily E. Johnson

So, I headed for Chicago.

I'll Keep My Composure, You Keep To Yourself

You're burning out, just skin and bones.

Pale face, hollow gaze.

I won't keep my light on anymore.

All images © Emily E. Johnson

And then there was March.

A shift of the eyes to the left

and down

or no contact at all.

Face down

buried in your pillow

you mutter "everything is fine".

This conversation

over.

It's like trying to hold smoke.

I can't keep

you

can't keep your word.

Kid,

you've got no follow through

and

somehow

though I spelled it out

just for

you

somehow manage to

fuck it up

every goddamn time.

Recalling January.

Try as I might to

lift these weights of the past

to look ahead

to

lightness

to falling up

a likeness

to smiles like skylines

and bright eyes.

A set of limbs that welcome home.

To distance

measured in minutes

not weeks

or messages held in palm.

It's been a long time coming

from end to end.

Ends meet

we arrive somewhere in

between.

I raced to the airport

for a kiss like catharsis.

He put words in my mouth

and thoughts in my head,

brought down his own creation.

Make me no promises.

Put forth words into action,

or render useless.

The truth is

I've been waiting

for you to let the light in.

Where we meet is

where the lightness begins.

Paradise Springs

I could make an entire album composed of photos of Luke

being caught off guard at this point in time.