August 2018

Volume I — Issue 11: Summer of Love


For you, 


My love for you began a century ago, but maybe this year will be different for us. For you and for me.


Now, here, it was a feeling and I am confused by the possibility of you. I am confused by the untied ends and the dead ends and the inevitable end. I’m running out of time for you! 


Some nights are different for me and for you! And for him and her and her and her. But those nights are more for me and for you! 


I have endless love for you, appreciation for you! When no one is for you I will be. Of course it’s you, for you are it and it and it and it. 


My shortness of breath is for you! My broken limbs are for you! The scratches running up my body and the blood dripping down my ankles are for you!


Wow it was you. It was you and now it’s you and it’s you and it will always be you. 


It’s safe here for you! I’ve built a world for you! You still hide behind  a pair of square sunglasses and white buckles, a fading love for an old friend.


I was stuck thinking about you when you weren’t here. I was stuck longing for you! You left and I was touched by others. Then you came back. 


In front of you, I sob. And I sob and you’re there— in front of me. And you’re there. And I sob for you! 


You were my first love. The truest.


Thank you for the upturned corners and quiet realizations. For the 12:08 rambles and devoted gazes out the 301 bus window.


Tonight I saw you and I turned my head. I’ve seen your face a thousand times before and I shut my eyes for you! It was your brother and your mom and your dad. It was your friend and that girl and that girl and the one you pulled aside to talk to and to talk to and to talk to. I missed you and when I turned my head from you it was over for me and for you! And now, it’s over. 


It’s over for me, and for you. 


This time wasn’t for us. It wasn’t for you! Maybe next time! For us!


But, for now, it's over for me and for you!






August 2018 is dedicated to the painters, poets, rebels, originals who have never felt more alone.




"Bus 301"

Sam Goodman



"For the emotionally exhausted." 

— Sam Goodman