rhymeswithmike

salted drops for you,
my dear,
dear
old
friend.

...
i hate this limbo!
i don't want to do this -
. this messy space,
. this awkward
drawn-out
sideways-glancing
overly-lengthy
...
...pause...
...,
. this internal retching of a solid friendship -
again.

my heart compresses,
tightened under invisible strain.
my eyes burn with liquid not accustomed to this pain.

why,
again?

perhaps
tomorrow
will be
easier
.

perhaps
tomorrow
i will awake from a tremendous dream
screaming,
breathing relief and cool air.


i can hope.
perhaps.