PD ( / )

Opposing Lines

I can’t stand to sit…

Waiting to be included
In your anecdotes,
The missing piece,

Yet, I love to hate…

My absent reverie,
Lost somewhere
Between oceans and mountains.

Feeling like I’m right of left…

A discombobulated mess,
Issuing faint poetry
For the sake of communion.

My heart is back to front…

Of the distance,
Smashing head-long
Into being there.

I try to forget remembering…

What it’s like
Being among you,
And want to cry.

This wet thirstiness…

Is drowning me,
Aching for the creativity,
Waiting, sitting, standing,

While I become a squared circle.

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