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To you, what might have been
entwined, these forever nights
buried in what it means to be
whole and true with a child
in your arms; with the caution
of two stars thrown apart
wondering where the other
shines, comforted when asleep
and chasing the art
To a certain sense of gentle knowing,
you, not more than seven hours distant;
you, whom I chose to weigh down
with endless histrionics, on the edge
of my mind: hungry, searching,
confused, and ultimately unhappy
with my definition
| don't really find this non-sensical...|
i see a family split apart...she with the child, separated from him...and he is full of regrets and always wondering what she is doing...he can't let go of the memories...yet she has started over....existing peacefully and comfortably without him.
he is "unhappy with his definition of life"
because the definition doesn't include her...and he is on the verge of throwing his Webster's in the toilet..with his life.
|| Posted on 2012-09-02 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] || this is beautiful, simple, and so relaxing to read|
|| Posted on 2012-09-02 00:00:00 | by irrelevantme | [ Reply to This ] |