Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Waiting for the words

What to write that hasn’t already been written? What to feel that hasn’t already been felt?

Pacing in the shadow of my own decision, elastic possibilities snapping me back. Alone, with myself, once more. Alone, with everyone, as always. Closeness, intimacy, understanding. Just a lie told by anxious fingers.

I keep trying on these dreams. So certain one will fit. Like turning pages in the dark because I already know the words. But dreams are only as good as the person who dreams them. Trying to write it all down before I forget. Always talking to myself, afraid to say it out loud. Wishing the whole time I was someone else.

The problem isn't that I’m waiting for him; it’s that he's not waiting for me.


  1. This is my first time reading your journal. I read a few entries. Wow, your writing: how you tell about your feelings is just beautiful. Of course there is sadness that I read in your posts...you write so eloquently. Your written words seem to capture your emotions so well.
    Sadly, I can relate to some of your feelings.

  2. ... the thing I like about what you are doing is that you are indeed writing as if the words and the feelings were new and raw...