it's that damn ringing again
filling my whole body
and aches,
pains
what is this?
a memory
the silent film of the days when
i was good enough for you.
of the days you
walked to my house
just
for the sheire fact that..
i wasnt me
and you wernt you.
but those old days of simple satisfaction
and gleeful gatherings are though.
you know. as mush as i dont say to your face
i miss you.
i miss the idea of you
the image in my head that,
if i were an artist
i could paint with exact likliness to you.
now all you are is a blurry photo
a good memory that i can take from the box when i feel like it.
It seems a waste
all those poems,
songs,
letters,
words written for you.
and each diary diffrent than it's brother
just like you.
diffrent than your brother.
i miss hearing your tune
and i miss all the words that you never said to me.
mostly
i just miss the way i was with you.
11:09 am - Monday, Dec. 23, 2002
Recent entries:
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alone, I shine. - Thursday, Aug. 27, 2009
save me. - Sunday, Aug. 16, 2009
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