| 15may2000 With warm face, tight with occasional realistic splashes in my sink, I sit. I wait. I�ve yet to find out what I wait for, but I wait. I wait with the passion people only write about. A passion only sultry lovers feel. A passion which hurls people to their deaths. I can hear your voice, although I�ve never said your name. I mouth it. My lips form the rounded letters and squiggly pronunciation. My lips protrude from my face and kiss the air And again I wait. But at the moment I know what for. You. I don�t want to love you, but I cant seem to help myself from doing it. Everything about you makes me laugh out of context, giggle and smile. I just think of the moments we�ve shared, and I find myself in pure denial. You make me shutter, and sigh I always wonder why. So many things say no. But so many are so right. So perfect. You are beginning to make me cry. I don�t know why. But you do. I miss you. I�m ready to smother you. Wrong me. Write me. Just be with me. And I look around. The line between paranoid and observant. I stand stock on it. On almost all lines. My head throbs, and my throat tightens. And I watch the stars and breathe in the breeze. I sit on your cement steps and smoke, watching the sky as it�s cut by the adjoining apartments. I�ll never forget how that feels. To feel beautiful and there. So there, and taking grasp of my destiny. The wind makes me feel small and insignificant. It cools my face, and blows my hair. I�ll never have that again. I give you the depth I wish you had. I wish you�d share. I know it�s there, but you are afraid to let it show. I cant love someone without it. I cant carry it for the both of us. I cant be both of us. It�s sad I can go on so little. Little things. Little words. Live off of them. Grow from them. Produce the life I want, but in my mind. My throat all tight has made my temples boom. Patter. Beat. And my lips aren�t kissing the air, but pouting as I stare straight ahead. I don�t know if I should look forward, or continue living on the past. I don�t know what hurts less. �I can hear you singing to me in my sleep.� |