and i am full.

written by the streetlight
sorrow of a thousand
blank pages,

eyes staring bright
right past the start
right to the part
where the paradigm shifts
as though foretold
by the wind and her
shifts, drifting in and
out of consciousness
messy but
complete, fictitiously
branching toward a rhythm
that could just never be
if you could
let me be
just a little while longer

written by the streetlight
solitude of a thousand
words falling, not one of them
mine

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reply : hey hey

it’s been too long since i’veread a good piece of writing

i can’t make myself remember what i asked you but the punch line was that i find you beautiful and i have to ignore the odd days when i love you i dont know who you are

i like your poem. and thanks for the advice you left me on my page. it mad me feel a lot better. :):)