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By j. knipp Date: 2003 Dec 12 Comment on this Work [[2003.12.12.18.22.22009]] |
| Insomnia is no illness; it is a state of mind. I know now that I reside here wakefully, not because of some unconscious process or chemical unraveling. It is my choice. I know that it is my choice to miss you. I know that is it is my choice to wipe you clean. I set out to do that to erase you to close up this heart shaped shop. I should slam shut these doors 'cuz business is bad and my one customer doesn't come around so often and she threatens to go elsewhere, to be independent. I marvel at her I love her to pieces I respect her wishes.... The customer is always right. But how can one who is always right continuously contradict what they say? You are to me such a moon in so many ways. You pull me like tidal waters. You draw me up and let me go. Raise me. Raze Me. Yet my heart still won't let you go because you don't toss me about like the wind does. You are so steady and fair in your movements. And I love you. But I think, do you want me to reach out to you? Do you want this ocean to take you in its arms when you dip down? Or do you want me to egress to go back and leave you be? I don't know how I can live in this state, yet I garner strength from you somehow. You have me so confused. On the surface I do not stir. But why do I stay up so late. Why do gaze at the moon so much? Why do I miss you so damn much? Are we both dancing elements chained to wantonness? |