I focus too much on
the sex sometimes.
On how many times this
week.
I don't focus on
the love sometimes.
I am a selfish bastard,
sometimes.
I focus too much on
the noise our fights make.
They make my ears bleed
and numb my head.
I get dizzy when we
fight.
When will it stop?
I worry too much,
sometimes.
I focus too much on
the money sometimes.
Too little, not enough.
Money leads to fighting,
and fighting leads to
noise.
My ears bleed.
I focus too much.
I focus, and still focus on
her.
I never stop focusing on
her because she is
my air, water, and fire.
She is my life, and
I love her.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2005
(171)
-
▼
April
(29)
- muse
- tulip
- My eyelids are heavyslowly beginning to droop.They...
- ZYX poem
- ABC poem
- untitled
- jazz
- dancin'
- itch
- writer's block
- think
- winter
- to dream
- the forest
- I ask the pages before melooking for answers.All t...
- surrounded
- I hate being mislead.I hate being confused.I hate ...
- I am drawn;pulled toward something:other conversat...
- Everything good in my lifebeginsand endswith her.S...
- argument
- focus
- Her hair tickles my facebefore I close my eyes.My ...
- father-stuff
- poet again
- Mom
- anniversary
- magnetic poem
- hate
- stillness
-
▼
April
(29)
No comments:
Post a Comment