Typewriter Series #758 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for...
Typewriter Series #758 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
I want to be your fanciest shoes and I want to be the way they actually hurt so you cannot wait to take them off. I want to be the sound of fingernails begin clipped in bathroom walls when the clock is rounding 12 and searching for single digits again. I want to be secretly annoyed you never clean them up. I want lazy Sundays and busy Saturdays and the freedom Friday brings and the apprehension of a Thursday at 2:45 pm and the quite moments reading on a Wednesday when it snows and a Tuesday where we rent the best new movies and a Monday filled with lethargy. I want the weeks and the months of you but I want the hours and the seconds more. I want the tiny ticks between a second and I want whatever lives between those. I want to be all the fairytales we tell all the kids we ever meet and the way we are actually talking about ourselves. I want the Christmas lights and the glow in your eyes and the sound of paper crinkling and the little bits of glitter dust left after tying all the bows. I want the dancing. All the dancing in all the places to all the songs and the shuffling of two sets of feet that have waited a lifetime to orbit each other. I want the road and the sky and the plane and the car and the exhaustion and the elation and the sea and the mountains high. I want the fever you chill and the cold you soothe and the drive to the hospital when the room must be of an emergency variety. I want the humming and I want the soft lullaby of your sleeping next to me. I want to be the one to remind you of the strength you’ve always been made of and I want to be the one to hold you when adrenaline is all that remains when that strength runs out. I want to be the reminder that you don’t ever need a reminder that you are made of wild things and they frolic inside you without a single thought to who may be watching or what thoughts might be filling their heads. I want to be the eyes that widen on your face as you realize your worth. I want to be the roots of you and the soil they love the taste of.
Part Four.
