Untitled (The Drama Of Faith)



Sometimes you hold me so tight
You leave an impression
Of two circles on the skin of my back.
And when I walk away, I still feel you


Do I need to restrict you
Like fluid to a dialysis patient?
Will too much of you
Kill me?

Yes, I want to be with you
But I don’t want to die to get there.


It’s an artificial cold.
I don’t really despise you
It’s just where I am right now.
I’ll be back soon.

Like an 80’s sitcom
I want this resolved in 22 minutes.
Sure, I can talk to you
To work this out.
But, let’s be honest, if I had the ability to talk to you
I probably wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with…



[Poem #5.  Image by andybrannan via Flickr and a Creative Commons License.]

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