Thought of posting every day

There's always something to tell you
always something to say, to admit, to ask for, to share, to rant, to remember, to call
always some babbling brook at the dam

     but the truth is I don't know if you're listening. I don't know if you're there. I don't know if you've ever been there. Deep down, I know this. And most of the time it really doesn't matter. I mean, it does and it doesn't.  It really doesn't because the words echo back in this empty room on this cork floor where the acoustic guitar sounds wide and traveled when you pull away the wool rug and see the damage

and the whole point is to remember one thing, whatever you could come up with, that you wanted to tell me, so many years later even so