Prosa

I talked to you today,
i sounded dumb
my voice ugly,
my strong arm, loose
my mind, melted
my soul signing dotted lines
the truth is I miss you
because you are a friend
someone who reads Pablo Nuruda
and fights for civil rights
I am not alone in this world
where trees groan, and snow melts
and broken people do broken things
it seems lonely though, because I
am not the same person…I have changed.
Maybe I was never the reason
the sight of the season, the ragweed allergin
but I always thought that I meant..something
to you.
Maybe my world is in chaos, I’m sure yours is too.
but you can gracefully bough out.
you can put your hands on the curtain rod,
shut the blinds of light.
But you refuse too…I wish I was alot like you

I have always admired your sense of self
knowing the world may be ugly, but you find ways to make it beautiful
and I know I am not the thing I used to be.

and i know that scares you.

I am just as alone as I ever was.
I am just as alone as I ever was.

But to you, I might sound terrific
but it is a parlor trick, I am just
as numb

as I ever was.

numb as I ever was. but I realize
pain is a journey.

so is love.

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