Friday, May 23, 2014

More bad poetry

Today is May 23. The guy doesn't have time to see me until May 29. He hasn't called or emailed, and I haven't called or emailed, because I don't want to appear desperate. Hopefully we will actually go out next week; until then, I console myself with bad poetry.

want to feel your hands
on my body want to feel your lips
on my neck want to feel your weight
over mine want to feel your skin
on my skin

Writing poetry on Twitter is a creative challenge.

calling you, silently
with invisible words
drawing you
closer closer to
my throbbing

Not feeling particularly well today. Smaller and smaller opiate painkiller doses seem to cause worse and worse hangovers: headache, nausea, feeling icky. I really shouldn't take them ever at all. Today's been kind of a waste. I went to the chiropractor and CVS, then home & collapsed. Heart pounding like I just ran a 6-minute mile, which I hope is just an opiate side effect.

I passed the CASAC, though. That's something.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

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