spilled_milk_factory PeeT tease your neck, kiss your spitless mouth if you have another taste. carry my body, drive my rider home if you take another bad bet. mumbled had a rumble and i stumbled down the stairs smellin just like lumber but my baby don't care we went uptown, downtown, everywhere between there was so much spilled milk we could've had a factory. silver poor house, plastic lungs, my bones, if you take another look. gills of wine, slow on five, i know when you're railing on another, baby. sweet basted teenagers lookin all around. i see your babies crawlin all over the ground they go 'goo-goo, gaa-gaa', what the hell's that mean. not even i know where i am, so don't go look for me. things go dark, light, dark, light, day after day. the flies weren't invited but they wouldn't go away. the blanks were filled out filled in but never complete there were so many dreams that there was no time to sleep. not a point to make, dodged a bullet, dredged the lake, i had one bite of wedding cake and i about threw up. i see bridesmaids, bridesmaids hunting for a man one more drink and i think i'll marry him. 120108 ... unhinged sharpen_your_teeth is still a must have album on my ipod 120110 ... PeeT ugly_casanova 120110 ... log burning fire that's right. 121102 ... raze seven years in, she gave him an ultimatum: get help, or get out. she didn't mean it. but he didn't know that. he started seeing a therapist. he tried to get a handle on his anger. the therapist told him to breathe from a deeper place. she told him to slow everything down and imagine himself somewhere that made him calm. "instead of yelling," she said, "try listening. study the face of the person who's made you angry. try to understand what they feel." a few weeks into the experiment, his six-year-old daughter knocked over a glass of milk at the dining room table. she watched a river of white spread across a square of solid oak. her words were a river too. "i'm sorry," she said. "i'm sorry i'm sorry i didn't mean to it was an accident i'm sorry please don't be mad oh god i'm so sorry." he focused on his breathing. he imagined he was in a bar. he saw himself drinking a beer. throwing darts. gorging himself on classic rock and the stale breath of strangers. he looked at his daughter's face. she was crying. she was shaking. she was sure he would hit her. "it's okay," he said. he grabbed a fistful of paper towels and mopped up the mess. through a thick veil of tears, she saw a man who looked like her father but acted like someone_else. she wondered who he was. so did he. after another week, he decided he was better. he stopped going to therapy and forgot everything he thought he knew about being calm. twenty-five years later, they're still together. two of their children have children of their own now. none of them are happy. they never were. but they look good in family portraits. 220510 what's it to you? who go blather from