The solid-grey backdrop to the robustly-lime shade tree out front, cheers me up only a little, because the week has YET to smack me in the face. But I would like to try and cheer someone ELSE up.... so HERE is the poetism I promised you yesterday. Yes, it was like 1am, and usually I would consider that a Saturday night, but lets just pretend for the sake of the forbiddenly scary Monday it is, that I haven't procrastinated....
....
"Whats to even say about the loss of sleep
about the restless tossing, the untucking of sheets?
Whats to add, to prove this clear?
that wine doesn't comfort when you're not here?
I thought it was simple, no converse for the seven
But its only been three, and its feels like eleven...
This ink, my escape, the only one I've told
about my sunken treasure or the reason I glow.
People are fickle, they just wander about
changing on whims, and ignoring the clouds.
So I tell my secrets to my fingertips and pen
and watch what happens again and again.
When my hands and the pen agree on a line
I've been sitting and watching for quite a long time.
So whilst I do wait, and remember your face
your smile sincere, your features I trace...
The words on my paper form a picture so well,
I stare, and OH how I wish I had someone to tell!
And I'm looking at you, and hope you're missing me
as badly in dreaming as I need you to be."
Wow, I'm impressed. Keep it up. ~Fay~
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