Longing

Longing is like rubber bands and
tight fisted hands grabbing my sleeves,
a small voice whispering, "Please
come back, I want you now, don't leave!"
Longing is a stretchy sort of feeling,
like taffy or laughing to keep yourself
from screaming at the ceiling.
It can be quiet, too,
creeping up behind you like a minute,
or a glass you go to drink from
only to discover that there's nothing in it.
Longing is the broken promise
of what tomorrow was supposed to bring,
and it is a mostly futile thing.







This poem has gone through so many mutations... I'm just kind of surprised that I found it.

(3 haikus)

I won't miss the rats,
the roaches, or the heat; but
maybe I'll miss you.

--

We console ourselves
with the countdown, marking off
days as they crawl by.

--

If I had to wait
any longer to see you,
I think I'd explode.






These weren't formed with the idea of making a series, but they fit together well enough so there ya go.

Feeble

He said, “I know you want to, but I
don’t because it’s almost impossible for me to
find someone who likes
the things you do, and is gorgeous too.”
I walked him to the door, silently,
wanting to do the ridiculous thing
and comfort him, because
I knew what he meant. Instead I only said
goodbye, locked the door behind him,
and leaned feebly against it. There
was more, I’m sure, but
I don’t know where it went.





"Feeble" is one of those words that starts to sound ridiculous if you say it over & over.
.