3.30.25
So many times I've found myself wanting to rest my head upon his chest. To curl into him and die. Seeking comfort in someone who isn't there. Phantom feelings and false prophets. I am the missing strength. Never promised. Always found. But oh how often I crumble now.
One often follows the other.
ReplyDeleteHello again, dear.
ReplyDeleteHey, darling.
DeleteI think some of your writing would be at home on a better class of fortune cookie fortunes.
It doesn't pay much but the karmic benefits can't be beat. You in?
I'll handle the popsicle in stick jokes.
Sounds like a plan.
DeleteThough, I do pity whoever has to eat a cardboard-flavored cookie while reading a slip of paper that says something along the lines of "today is a good day for geese" -- or some other nonsense.
I hate to differ with you, but I can't imagine anything that would make eating a cardboard-flavored cookie more worthwhile than the thought that perhaps somehow, somewhere a goose may benefit from it.
Delete