Hello, hello! I usually don’t preface these things, but I tried something a little different with this week’s AudioCoffee. This piece is one I did a while back – specifically meant to be heard instead of just read. So if I sound a little more, ah….slurry, with some of my words, or my enunciation falls through a bit more, that’s definitely something I was shooting for. And, to add for some scene setting, I also edited in a nice little quiet rain track behind the spoken words – just for dramatic flair.

Also, audio quality’s nowhere NEAR perfect. =P Bear with me, people. I’m trying a new pop filter.

Anyway, time to get out of my own way. Here’s the Soundcloud player. Away we go~

So uh,

it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

You look

well.

I mean

I can see the raccoon rings under your

eyes, smell the tobacco tar

on your tongue, and I’m guessing there’s more

Morgan in that thermos than there is Joe

but you know,

you look

well.

Well in that tired old

dog slumped inches from their

bed sort of way.

I’m not…

…doing this right, am I?

I mean…it’s

hard.

We said we’d always be honest,

but that was back when being

honest chalked up to

talking about how much we couldn’t

stop thinking about each other

or

how work was bothering

us more than usual

or how

we were having a crisis of self

and didn’t know if this

was the stamp we wanted

to leave on the world.

It was an easier time, you know?

Back when the sheets

smelled like lavender,

alarm clocks meant

nothing, and the coffee was

always sweet.

You’d be having a bad day

I’d say stupid shit

you’d laugh

and we’d be

alright.

That was the

deal,

remember?

I guess it’s a little harder now,

what with…

well…

Anyway….

How have I been?

Admittedly…

everything seems static

around here.

Static in that whole

grass sits

it rains

grass grows

grass gets mowed

kind of way.

Being stuck in

the same place tends to

do that do you.

You know a thing or two about that,

don’t you?

A big part of me

doesn’t know what I

want,

talking to you

here.

That old normalcy would be nice,

as if that could

even be given.

As if someone could wash

the sweat and ash

out of the sheets,

give us reasons to

set alarms,

and make that coffee

anything but black

right now.

Wishful thinking, right?

You might even laugh.

I guess a bigger part of me

wants to stay honest, though.

A bigger part of me

wants you to just

get you to

wake up and notice

the grass creeping

waist high around

you –

the dust settling in blankets

thick

enough to sleep under.

There’s too much outside

those quiet walls

the shuttered blinds

this rusted fence

to just keep

sleeping it all away.

And your time

is much better spent

talking to something other

than carved words on stone.

Please.

Please stop coming back.