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Written November 4, 2009

My anticipation of flashing fingers and inside jokes a-typing to you went sour of waxing waiting and waning wishes unfulfilled.

And moments went wayward, days dashing without reiteration or recognition.

I'm an unwanted storm thundering through, dampening and damaging, disastrous and deadly, a graffitied wall with the message unclear.

Dash away my fears with a half-assed answer.

Talk only with no strings attached.

Like a candle living on gasoline instead of fresh air, I know it's not healthy to hold so much care.

Can't get rid of these stars in my deep sea eyes, wondering when waking willingly will ruin the surprise.

But there isn't one, nor will there ever be.

Silly Memory.