A Journal of Sorts
. o O ( of course I should be sleeping ) O o .
"I don't miss you, no, not in normal ways instead the missing is my friend who teases me and plays we have our little rituals, we have our subtle signs our dances round the lack of you, each of which combines to tell me I don't miss you no, not at least these days no I don't really miss you, except when you close the door behind then all the mocking moments point and grin just to remind me that they will be my company for all the time that you're away they'll fatten up and multiply, they'll fill up the whole day how then could I miss you, when you've left me so much time there's no way I could miss you, when you're everything I touch an icy glass of ginger ale, a beach, bow tie, brown bread and such a yapping noise your absense makes when I try to sleep alone so I hold on tightly to the void and claim the missing as my own no impossible to miss you, I don't miss you that much no impossible to miss you, I don't miss you that much" ~ Jen Chapin ~ still in a time warp, day by day... three months ahead, three months behind... it may mean that it will take a minimum of three months to begin (to begin what?... to know me? {oh, but that could take forever, if anybody ever could}... to catch up? {with what?... these journals?... the web world?... life?... the universe?... infinity?}... to be caught up? {reiteratori}... to fall in love? {if wishes were horses... but then, what about love at first sight?... is that purely libido?... is it worth more than a blissful roll in the proverbial hay?... what is your bottom line?}... to go truly irreparably mad?) J but she has me in her power and she doesn't even want me discarded further by the hour for how long will she now haunt me until someone comes along to overpower her attraction this is the way of my heart it's a natural reaction nuclear what would you think it I sang out of tune (and would I ever find out?)... the reasons in my rhymes are there for many reasons and though sometimes just for show they reach beyond the four seasons and in the depths of understanding you may come to comprehend that I am always moving forward even when I might pretend to fall behind or freeze in stillness feigning fear or failing fortitude when meter stumbles through stacatto you may not follow my mood but if you ask I might still answer when you least expect me near if I believe through all your actions that you really truly care... tears form ready to fall but what's the point nobody's here to care if I cry if I live or die or drown in the tears voices call deep in my mind but no one hears look in my eyes don't run away nightmares can end or drown in the tears lost in the years memories haunt every moment I am aware how can I forget wounds that won't heal scars that won't fade lost in the fears doubts that anyone will ever understand to be alone for all eternity is that the life I made? tears burn when they don't fall but what's the point nothing to see just an old heart lost in memory drowning in tears voices from the silence only I hear look in my eyes what can I say no one will stay she will not stay lost in the years or drowned in the tears and if anyone did follow along... are you wise enough to realize that the process continues even after we're gone and the garden grows even after it might appear to move on and the river flows differently every time you look at it and every time you dive in you can feel it deeper, even when it's dry... river of sin? . o O ( who's laughing? ) O o . J |
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