The wrong time of year.

Should old acquaintance be forgot?

I'm sorry for thinking about it during only the first quarter of the year. It is a very important question though. I'm not even really questioning it right now. I know that I want to, shall we say.... "down-size", but I AM going to need at least one of them to stay behind and hold me.

Sometimes I hope it's him.
There are times when I think she could be the one.

But I've been waking up from dreams recently, before the song is even finished, and I can feel the arms still wrapped around me.

Stretch first. Spot front. And NEVER wear mauve at a ball.

Who has something to say?

Does anyone have ANYTHING to say?

Bore me.
Excite me.
Read me.
Fuck me.
Buy me something nice.

I promise I'll make it up to you.

Now, since all of you seem to bore me
(or maybe you've just grown tired of me),
I guess I'll write it down.
I guess I'll save that feeling.
I guess I'll put it all together.

Someday I'll bring the house to half
and perform if all for you.

Until then,
I hope you/we find the
piece/peace/energy
I think is missing.

That quiet bitch in the corner.

I had a conversation today that,
had it been overheard by passersby,
could have been mistaken as simple
bitching and complaining.

Sometimes, we do that.

I had a conversation today that,
had I stopped to examine why we were discussing
what we were discussing,
well,
it may have reminded me of you.

I complained that you were missing.
I complained that you were late.
I realized that our first "fight" would,
strangely,
have to be about
your whereabouts.

And then,
there she is,
Happy.
Sitting in her corner.
She has nothing to say.

If
and When
you are truly like her,
you'll have nothing to
complain about.

Happy doesn't have
too much to say.

I just listened to The Last Time I Saw Richard for the first time in a long time

It is one month later
and I have just woken up
from that very same evening
with you.

It is one week later
and I have realized how hard
someone like you must
have it.

Surrounded, on the periphery,
by irreverence
and vanity,
I say simply,
“Woe is you.”