Fear Fingers tapping rapping upon the table top waiting while the clock passes slowly with a drop dripping in a constant roar wake with a new fear
I have a problem......ok....I take that back, I do not have A problem. I have A LOT of problems, but I will only be talking about one of them today. That is the fact that I have a tendency to find poems funny which are not intended to be so. On the forum I belong to, often times I will read a poem, intended to be an expression of anger or sadness or otherwise dark, and it will just make me chuckle. Now I do not mean that as cold-heartedly as it sounds. I do not go ...
I'm in agony for her presence as I melt in a thousand pieces forever weak. My only cure is her smell, her touche, her embrace, her kiss, and her grace. Her voice, her mind, her expression, and her character which is kind. Once a paradoxical thinker now transformed into a paradoxical philosophical poet for she has reached inside me where I now come to simply just be. Come with me love away from this world for all eternity until the void of existence for ...
Thomas, I have given this careful, careful consideration. I am a servant to my affection for you whether I like it or not, and am therefore also a servant to you. I *am* bound to you. I don't entirely understand the tie, but it is not a bond you can simply free me from. Nor one that I can deny. I am yours, whether you are mine or not, and if it makes me chase phantoms for the rest of my days, so be it. My path is chosen-- and I cannot deviate. Because I am a servant to my love ...
I am not sure how I first came by the idea for this one.
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