There's a knot in my neck
from where I cradled the phone
for so long,
and it reminds me that she's gone
and that I miss her.
Her laugh
covered the cracks
in my heart the way that
spackle fixes walls.
I've decided to call her more often.
Kristy called me a bit ago. We talked for almost an hour, and I didn't even talk about half the things I wanted to.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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