Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Cube Theory Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Wednesday 4/14/2010 12:16:00 AM

We were wandering between several realities. It was natural. That's what a body craves. What a mind wants. Choices. Too many of them. Chances. Too live. What we've missed.

She turned to smoke and disappeared into the sun. I think that must be what love is. Watching them leave. and allowing it to happen. Hard candy. Stuck to your teeth. For hours after the flavor is gone. Saccharine. Sweet at first. Turning sour as it lingers too long in the creases of our lips.

I counted her worlds. One by one. Until there were so many I could not keep track. I presumed some were real while others were manufactured. For the simple reason that one life is not sufficient for some.

She always insisted people are a contradiction. Body and mind torn between different dimensions. Lost and found in the same swatch of skin. Fighting islands no one else can see. Navigating oceans in sinking rowboats.

Determined to keep swimming farther into the sea, even though they're drowning.


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