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.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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