No more poems today,
I am in misery.
For when I am in misery
The poem ceases to be
Words crafted and chiseled
From abstracted thought.
The poem begins to be me.
August 31, 2000
4.41 pm, Thursday
I am in misery.
For when I am in misery
The poem ceases to be
Words crafted and chiseled
From abstracted thought.
The poem begins to be me.
August 31, 2000
4.41 pm, Thursday
Because it’s all in the mind..
November 14, 2011The melancholia comes from the fact that somewhere in the road we built for us, there’s a part we never shared the same memories. There’s a you that I didn’t get to know and there’s a you he exclusively knew. And there’s a me who was constantly a “problem” when you talked about our relationship before.
When you’re a person like me that puts a premium on shared experiences between partners, you know how this could become unfair.
But it’s all in the mind, they say. Because it’s all in the mind, at least I get to tell you I have memories of my own you can’t reach and is exclusively mine - the pain I took and taking in just to make you happy.
