sometimes moving on doesn't involve reaching under the soil, grabbing your roots no matter how far down they go, and gritting your teeth and tearing them out so you can walk again.

Just clear the slate, approach it all with a mind that isn't anchored to things it shouldn't, and now I feel lighter in spite of negative circumstances, and even still, no dirt under my fingernails.

The wine feels warm in my stomach, the air still sort of sways away from me, those slightly alienated, hollow feelings that are not entirely strange to me are back like unwelcome neighbors, but this time they get to stay outside and tap at the glass, instead of come in and sleep with me at night, sit next to me in the car, nag me at work and sing off-keys when I'm trying to float across the fretboard of the guitar.

Doesn't mean I can't hear them tapping, though, and sometimes that's enough to keep me awake.

Like now.