Like a falling bomb
barding my mind
caught in the race
killing time
fragile moments
caught with a stare
caught a glimpse of
you over there
looking at me
looking at you
looking at me
what do I do
my heart begins racing
the moment is here
the time is right now
my motive's not clear
crescendo of thoughts
splitting my mind
words spilt on paper
tend be blind
Well, it is what it is I guess.
I'll come back in a few days and re-read it, maybe try to make it into something, maybe leave it. I like the fact that it doesn't matter.
.
1 comment:
did you ever come back?
New London
when you left we came
after you
station wagon, safely
buckled in
the YMCA in New London
two worlds away
i coveted your escape.
why didn't you take me?
long blond hair and
a resolute posture.
no hanky in your pocket
proud
you weren't coming back.
not really.
xx
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