Thursday, November 3, 2011

Untitled

I guess it’s anger sinking in

distant, broken and bleeding.

I guess it’s distance becoming

the only thing I can feel.

You’re running into something,

someplace far from here.

You push and pull and run away

into anyone but me.

Is it me, is it you, is it both of us,

what are you trying to find?

I am lonely and angry and letting go

detaching to ease the pain.

Time is endless, time abounds

unless it’s time for me.

Time feels wasted, time feels lost

I just want this time to end.

Perhaps I’m pushing harder than you are running

 but from here it’s easy to see.

I can feel it when you sit next to me

the pull and the need to be free. 


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