Sunday, August 26, 2007

August 2007

A full moon, a cool breeze, the scent of freshly cut grass: an accumulation of failures gnaw at me. Yes, that is what has me feeling empty and lonely. What I wouldn't give for a touch, a kiss, and some assuring words.

What else can I do but stand in the dark, smoke a cigarette, and try to imagine what will be rather than what was. Yet that seems as hollow as the moon.


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