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she comes in, sits on the bed. Morning collapses in coalition with Afternoon, and finds me sitting with her company. We’re each talking of storm-blue shadows, trying to rise a milky mist of good emotion, But instead it brings impotent examples of how I mar life. Many days in my life it an’t no mighty depression which drives me down this road. No, on days like these i’m hounded by knowing how much I let people down, unable to remove myself into their happiness. I wonder if writing these words on paper, gives me nihility unfound in my God’s absolution. And when I next phone her, and hear her crying, these words becomes another selfish act, surpassed by the feelings of sisterhood. I want to rush out to fight her demons. It’s only a little thought which wonders, if, I’d be fighting myself. |
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Piaf I need to find a woman.
A woman willing to teach me, to sing these French songs. A woman who is capable of singing with elegance and passion. A woman who wants to place her lips next to mine, mouthing the words as our tongues collide |
Frends I think of my frends,
wondering who they are Strange to think I don’t know. I want to go where everyone knows my name wondering where that is strange to think I won’t get there |
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Ghosts. Walking, with you at my side,
I wonder as the women passing by. Your head drops, is it the slight acknowledge to a yesternight spent together or to just a midnight kiss? I’ll never dare ask, and it’s not my any more place. I’ll just wonder how stupid I was, and how many ghosts filled your bed. |
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