Saturday, March 17, 2007

Warning - poetry ahead

Arm's length
has become
too far
to cross.

I'm tired of trying
reaching
finding
nothing
on the other end.

You win.
I'm worn out.

So
when you look for me
I won't be there
across the table
across the room
across your life.

And what breaks my heart
is that
you won't even
miss
me.

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