Thursday, February 04, 2010

Poem for an X - …exploring the relationship between [some] men and space

You had enough of me? I often seem to wonder
Sometimes I cry, my face turned to the wall
I know, it’s silly yet I can’t stop but ponder
The little things like: Does he care at all?

I then run to the mirror and turn my lips blood red
I take out the mascara, the blushers and instead
Of trying to forget you...Oh, I am such a fool
I’m rushing to your door-step, breaking another rule.

I count to three, a thousand and sometimes I loose count
I lean, peek through your key hole without making a sound
All I can see is darkness and dust: an empty place
For you must always have been my favourite waste of space


Anonymous said...

all is gonna be better. hey, smile, it's almost weekend. the party is starting.:)

Corina said...

what belongs to the past, stays in the past...and the weekend was most revealing, indeed..thanks for stopping by:).