lentils make good babies...but you cant eat them.

i feel like im teetering on the edge of something. that pause at the apex of a yawn where you just hold all the air you can deep in your lungs and for that second, its the best feeling in the world. but if you hold it too long theres a sharp pain and the stale suffocating sensation that swirls to your head and makes your vision dance. thats where i am at the moment. im not holding the breath in...im just waiting for the right moment to exhale.

waiting. always waiting. waiting and yet being tossed about and swept forward by the tide. you cant blame the tide though. its the moon that pulls it. it cant help sweeping you up in its waves. are there any who fight the moon?

when i was little, walking alongside the grocery cart, i would pick up the bags of beans and lentils and pretend they were babies. cradling them close in their plastic packages, i would walk along the aisle, always hoping mom would buy the little plastic baby in my arms. but she never bought the lentil baby. sometimes the popcorn baby...sometimes the blackeyed pea baby (which could never really be a baby in my mind, a baby could never be made of blackeyed peas)...but never the lentil baby.

one time my dad made lentil soup. i had to force myself not to think of where he got the lentils.