Stretched out six feet, bright against
the beige blonde bland
cookie cutter college
monotony
she reminds me, of how
I used to write.
Sometimes hoping she might read
sometimes not but still
she reminds me, why
I used to write.
Like this but metered, measured &
forgotten, remember?
The way I used to write.
...this question is a response to I don't know what. I don't get it. Forgive me, I'm slow today.
It was great seeing you the other day, even for just a split second. Sorry I didn't run over and hug you like I wanted to, but we both seemed to be in 'work mode'. I've heard tale of some SGSB bowling thang this weekend, yes? I want to hang out, so let me know.
My sweet boy spent his whole weekend sleeping in a cot set up next to my hospital bed. When my fever and the medication caused me to hallucinate and get confused, he sat on my bed with me and held me and explained where I was and what each and every tube was doing to make me feel better.
no i can't imagine how people could be that mean i'm very sorry to hear. I've involved myself with Leukemia patients recently and it's hard to imagine anything worse than that. what do you have going on? are you seeking treatment? (dumb question) i know this is all personal- so you don't have to tell me anything- if nothing else, just know you have a friend that is concerned for your well being, I'll have you in my thoughts.
All my best
I've never been able to watch people cry. From the smelly woman with no teeth softy sobbing in the subway to the most severely handicapped kids I work with who can't tell me what's wrong. I can't ignore tears, can't walk away from pain. I've never been able to,, even if all I have to offer is a hand to smooth their forehead and an... Read More
all I learned about "namaste" I learned from my 10th grade history teacher. we all hated him, but in retrospect his problem wasn't so much that he was a dick as that he didn't know how to get along with 10th graders. that's ok, I didn't get along with 10th graders either.