And Now, For Your Reading Displeasure, Some Poetry
Seven Hours
Infatuation is just 7 hours away.
Ahead or behind, it doesn’t matter.
He works, I should be sleeping.
He chills, I should be studying.
Is it possible to love someone
to whom I have never spoken?
Is it possible to love someone
who has never seen my face?
How do I dream of a man
whose hands I have never felt?
How can I miss him
when I’ve never met him?
Worse
Is it possible for him
to love me?
miss me?
need me?
dream of me?
How would I even know?
How would he?
The clock ticks towards midnight.
To sleep, perchance to dream? No.
To stay awake, perchance to read his words.
Imperfect as they are, in structure and letter
the intent is all quite clear.
The feeling
Is it love?
or infatuation?
Even worse
could it just be lust?
There are two people who might read this blog who will ‘get it’. You both know who you are.
To the one here, please forgive me the drama and weakness.
To the one there, well, hopefully you’ll understand.
Comments (6)
Obviously I don’t know the actual situation, but I do have to say that I can certainly identify with that.
~Meta~
whatever it means it is a beautiful poem…
this is touching…and why wasnt i wearing a shirt?
christ! my reputation is ridiculous!
oh, and my teacher will be in brazil next month.
i don’t think i fully understand what you were trying to say. however, your poem did strike chords of remembrance in me. that may not have been your intention, but it was still touching.
could there be more than two …who understand wht u mean in those b’utiful lines?
I am at a total loss of words…ALl i can muster up today is “God Bless”
There are many feelings in this poem I can identify with – there is a very thin line between Love & Lust.