Rain was a hallmark card that
fell from grace
and stumbled down the stairway of clouds
Slamming a door of sunshine
Running away with the rainbow of your absence.
So she's not home.
She's not home.
My shoes holler to be stripped down
and my jeans are guilty on the floor.
She is not home.
She is not home.
Shadows mind.
I mind.
Running around like a chicken monkey
Catching my breath between pots of coffee
standing at the bus
stop.
Wondering why people talk so loud?
Every other Wednesday should be mine to take.
Just to make sense of myself.
Just to make some sense.
Just to take hold of all the pleasure and pain.
I catch me stuttering in comments
left in boxes. Illuminated by whiteness
that is not there,
that is as real as nothing.
As real as pushing you away.
Technology
Sometimes I want to throw my cell phone and laptop into a tub of hot water.
Blog is a sound you make when you don't feel well.
Twitter is when you let something go.
Sharing should be more personal.
Not highlighted by so many damn emoticons.
