Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Motionless Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 12/24/2009 12:37:00 AM

We were going there. In limps and stumbles. Life tends to create an abundance of traffic. We were going there. Not really planning on coming back.

The future in our laps. The past in our throats. A daisy chain of emotions. Cascading from that first moment through to the last. All the static. All the vague negotiations on the touch. Converging. On the tiny oracles in our hearts.

What would we do. What could we. It's time to forgive. Them. And ourselves.

I had presents. I had gifts I thought enough. I had everything I was supposed to have, but it still wasn't enough.

I had tried on the future. And it pretended to fit.

We were always going there. But still somehow, here is where we ended up.


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