Arm’s length seems to be
the perfect distance to me,
but it’s all I can do
not to pull in closer to you.
So I tighten my fists,
and I straighten my wrists.
Nothing is certain, but
I don’t want to take the risk.
I guess my mental dry spell is over.
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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