Sunday, May 3, 2009


I came to, ears still ringing from the night before
Rolling out of a bed that is not my own
I grab my dirty shoes and worn flannel shirt
Stumbling torpidly toward the front door in a semi-hypnotic state of subconsciousness
I am deathly silent
I am inches away from the exit
Inches away from disappearing without making a sound
A sudden movement in my peripheral vision
"You're leaving."
"Yeah, I'm going to do work"
I am given looks of uncertainty and despondency
"Okay...well I'll see you at some point"

Is it wrong, when one knows his heart is elsewhere, to try to give affection to another?
In that very room
Tucked in a blanket
Uncomfortable with the adjacent situation
I find it hardly fathomable that the mind and heart
can ever concur
They are of opposite poles

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