Ordinarily I wouldn't blog on consecutive days, but I feel somehow strangely compelled. The pen in my hand twirls between my fingers as I've got the lyric from a song in my head today. Problem is I can't tell you who the song was by or its title, just the opening line: "There I go again, I promised myself I wouldn't think of you today." I hate you right now (in secret).
Not for the first time, the breath catches in my throat. I have been asking myself the same question for weeks now: What did I do to deserve you? I don't know (or remember) if I fell for you, or you for me. Perhaps we've both forgotten? Did I take your hand and then run too far? My fault. I do, at times, get kinda swept up. I'll wait, if you'll allow; on a bed of nails if I must.
Your salt-watered cheeks tingle on my lips -
To be continued...
Not for the first time, the breath catches in my throat. I have been asking myself the same question for weeks now: What did I do to deserve you? I don't know (or remember) if I fell for you, or you for me. Perhaps we've both forgotten? Did I take your hand and then run too far? My fault. I do, at times, get kinda swept up. I'll wait, if you'll allow; on a bed of nails if I must.
Your salt-watered cheeks tingle on my lips -
To be continued...