I know I’m not the one
despite the conversations
in my head
that you hint dimly at
and speculate about
in poems I read
I should pull my head out
of this absurd
funhouse mirror distraction
I don’t have the time
and there’s nothing to book
On that action
Even if I were the one
which I know I’m not
I know I’m not
It wouldn’t mean a thing
or stack up to the real
I’ve got
but I let it
tease my mind
a little new a little twist
When I’m not there
anymore
I’m sure I won’t
really be missed
No comments:
Post a Comment