reposting my poem to a boy: July 16th, 2004
Wet Gravity
Wet Gravity
Long distance Drunk
How strange, this need to water down ones heart,
In hopes that it might cure the ach from all this gravity,
This gravitational pull of absence.
How Strange, that in my darkest hour - mile markers are our only common bond.
A bond that drifts out to sea and one can only hope it will return again.
Long distant drunk. me.
How strange, writing you, fighting you with my type writer,
Trying to get a handle on all of this mixology.
How strange, holding up this weight
against the gravity of my wet heart strings.
Long Distant drunk. Me.
Floating in this....
wading out...
trying to carry the weight...
of a bottle and a broken heart.
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