Seldom

No comment. I'm beginning to question my life and what I want out of it.

Sometimes I find myself thinking too much; 

But it's nothing too unusual. 

I close my eyes and I see your face. 

Yet, it's something I can't bare to stand. 

I look at the stars through my window, 

Because I can't crawl onto the roof without falling off the Earth, 

And all I see is questions. 

Each star has their own. 

And I can lay there for hours,

Counting the threads in my sheets. 

I listen for your voice, 

Even though I know you're really not there.

I always find an excuse to leave early. 

I can't stand to be around too long. 

I have this fear of screwing around, 

And then ruining everything I've worked for. 

I'm starting to wonder why life matters so much, 

And even more so, the choices you make.

I have no idea what I want out of it,

But I know for sure I want you in it. 

Author's Note

Sometimes my brain vomits, and sometimes the vomit can be cleaned up.

Reviews

[Robert J Poe]

This is about me isn't it? or at least implied