Sitting here, chewing on a match...the red tip sliding back and forth in my mouth as I ponder the ache, the need...raw...that's the only way I can describe it, because words are so ridiculous to me now.
I have no use for them, really...I want nothing more than to not talk.
Nothing more.
And truly...we don't need to talk...do we? We both know. Her voice pounds in my head all the day long...and I can be as busy as I've ever been, as rushed and pulled in a hundred different directions...hell, I can MANUFACTURE a crisis in an effort to escape it...the Universe just shakes her head and gives a little sigh...foolish human that I am...trying to block the raw...wanting.
Foolish human.
2 comments:
You're right. And remember the mist important word there is human.
Also, you? Manufacture a crisis? Never! ;)
Most, dammit!
Damn iPod typing, foiled again!
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