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Only Everyday...

09-29-2009 at 01:35:04 PM

Only Everyday...

Do I ever think of him?
Do I miss his loving voice?
Do I ever feel alone?
Hate myself?
Regret my choice?
Nope. Sorry.
I can’t say that I do.
I released him long ago.
Way before he bid me adieu.
Do I ever miss him?
Find myself in a daze?
Do I ever wish that our love
Hadn’t been a phase?
Do I ever miss how he loved me?
Or how he always cared?
Do I ever look in my heart where he was
Only to discover that he’s not there?
No, honey bunch.
As I said before.
That’s an old chapter in my life.
I’ve closed and locked that door.
But do I ever think of how he touched me?
Gently kissed my lips?
Slowly rubbed my thighs?
Always gave me pure bliss?
Do I ever think of his smile?
His whole hearted laugh?
Do I ever try thinking of my future,
But get caught up in our past?
Do I ever cry myself to sleep
And wake to a damp pillow?
Do I ever get the urge to call?
Desire coming over me in billows?
No. I’m sorry.
That never occurs.
The emotions that I’ve buried
Are dead and without words.
But do I ever think of loving him?
Try to find out what went wrong?
Do I ever want to fix things up?
Do I miss what was once so strong?
No. That never happened
On any yesterdays or todays.
Do I ever try to lie to myself?
Only everyday…

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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