B_E_C_O_M_I_N_G__A__N_U_N
I wish someone understood my extreme sensitivity to everything.
I’m starting to get use to sirens in the midst of my favourite song. The clash of the hussle with my tortoise-like pace. There it is again. Again! Again, my dearest Ann.
so time to ((((((SlEeP*mOvE*sCrEaM*tHiNk*FeEl*CrY*sPiN*bArF))))))Counting the months. 6 Months. 1……2…..3….4…5..6.
I sit @ home
@ my desk alone
As I use to do
On many Sunday afternoons
When you came back to me
Your arms ached for me
& your arms would close me in
Though they smelled of other women
Other Women.
Please don’t come back this month. I can’t take it.
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i know everything, and i also know your misunderstadning of it.
there is everything, and then there is nothing.
i’ll take everything with every car crash burned sinew, every mexican peddling toy cars….as long as it;s something
By Jesse on 07.12.03 4:54 am
I know nothing, and I also know your understanding of it. There is nothing and then there is everything. I’ll take nothing with every truck sliding headlong through snow whipping sinewey donuts by moose… as long as it’s nothing
By bloonail on 07.14.03 6:54 pm
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