She was mysterious as she was beautiful, dark as she was light.
Back then we were a couple in an awkward dance.
We never said goodbye.
Now she is my absent muse, I pour my blood out on the page for her.
I grasp for ever bit of news that might give me a clue- is she happy, is she sad, is she using again?
She plagues my brain like the stray cat that she is; always coming around the back door of my mind, and when I look she isn't there.
She was the symbol of humanity to me, and I miss what she mean…
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Posted on December 19, 2008 at 9:02pm — 2 Comments
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Happy new year!
i love reading, mostly poetry. daydreaming a lot... drawing, yoga, just hanging out...
what do you like to do?
Flawed and damn proud of it.
how is it in California?
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