Wednesday, March 30, 2011

It Seems Like Years

Outside, rain is falling,
Thunder is breaking the sky open.
Inside, my spirits are bleak,
I wonder when I will break open.

I have coffee, I have music, I have
a bed with no sheets on it. I have
a cupcake, for breakfast. There's no one
here to tell me not to.

You were here throughout this long, cold,
lonely winter, as the song says. You
made sure I wasn't lonely.

I'm just writing, musing to get out of the
inside of my head. Wanting to be outside, shoes
hitting the cement, heart pounding, head finally
stopping.

So where, exactly, is my sun? When is it coming?


with a nod to the wonderful Beatles song

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