I swing wildly between
"I love you so much, I want to spend the rest of my life with you!!"
to
"What the hell am I thinking??"
I cry myself to sleep
I bawl in the shower
I cry when you're holding me
I sob when you're not.
I love it when you touch me,
squeeze me.
Then I forget who you are for a moment
and drift away.
Away, to things that have been.
Away, to things that could be.
Why isn't this that?
That could never be this.
Why is one so wrong,
both so right,
neither so fulfilling.
That is so wrong.
WELCOME
..and here are a few things to keep in mind:
This blog contains mostly my poetry and a few thoughts from time to time. The thoughts will be entered when and wherever I feel necessary to keep things in proper order. Thoughts and things not belonging to me will be denoted with asterisks. Poems will be archived by the date which they were written, not by that which they were posted. I tend to update things a month or few after being written so as to keep current issues from wandering unattended around the web.
Enjoy...
[somberlife was first created July 11, 2004]
“The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean; not to affect your reader, but to affect him precisely as you wish.”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
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