Saturday 11/19/2005 11:56:00 PM

It tastes like tomorrow. Feels like cotton candy on my tongue. As the slick slivers dissolve into my mood. All concfected with sorrow until every strand is but a wisp. What once was solid only an afterthought now. As alone together we assume eachother in our various poses.

Faulty mirrors full of distorted reflections.

I wnanted something to want, but I never found it. So I decided instead I'd wait until I was wanted.

If that time should ever come.

There are already too many wives. Too many mothers. So what is there left for me to be, except what I am.

Child. Daughter. Lover. Alcoholic.

Perhaps a little more.

If that should ever come to be.

3 comments:
Anonymous said...

I read your posts daily...they are magnificent. Ever read A Million Little Pieces by Frey? Not a self help book, more of a narrative of an addicts journey down and back up. I think most of us suffer from one addiction or another or have loved someone who is. Great insight. Hope you have that opportunity to feel wanted again, if that is what you choose. Good luck with everything. Your writing touches me, as I have experienced much of the same...thank you!

Soulful Warrior said...

"When I Am"

It tastes like today. Feels like snowflakes on my tongue.

As the cold ice melts to warmth.

All frozen with the past until every drop is but a stream.

What once was solid becomes an emotion for later. As together we are eachother.

Perfect reflections of distorted memories.

I desire something to want. So I choose to wait for it to reveal itself.

The time will come.

There is not enough love. Too much pain. So what is there left for me to be, except what I am.

Child. Sibling. Lover. Friend.

Perhaps even more.

I wait for that day to come.

alcoholic poet said...

Anon: i've not read that. but it sounds like something i ought to read.

i really don't know what the proper way to respond to praise is, but thank you.

soulful: i know imitation is the sincerest... yada yada yada, but please don't do that anymore.



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