Tuesday, July 21, 2009

145 lbs.

I feel dense in the rain
and all at once, years blow by

my hair scatters in the wind

Every day bleeds into the next
and waking up feels like deja vu

Making an effort
feels important
but equally unamusing

I want to pretend like I have stopped waiting for you
but I still stand at the shore
expecting to see you

I fear august
as time harasses me
and mocks my displacement

I miss you
and I fear that for you
I would hold my breath.