Written January 2000
Breathing hard is easy
Living easy is hard
What's the use of dreaming?
What's the point of believing?
Doesn't matter anymore
She can't open her eyes no more.
Not aware of the pain
Not before she wakes up
In the middle of the night
When nobody else is in sight
Between the two of us
Maybe I'm the idiot
But I'm not.
YOU ARE READING
PARTS OF MYSELF
PoetryPoems written long ago, When internet was still boring, When the TV was broken, When I was still a virgin-- on the ways of the world mentally; physically; And words were my only friends.
