Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Split Needles

Let me start off by saying how much I adore plinky. As my last four posts in this particular corner of the internet should advocate, I am a big fan. The daily prompts offer inspiration and direction for those without, but also give glimpses of identity and how one question (with an often limited number of possible responses) can spurn so many directions of thought.

Regardless, as I've recently found that I have enough time to scribble incoherent thoughts and completed prose alike into my beloved hardbound, I tend to write in this less often (aside from the Plinkies, which are automatically posted here). I've also discovered the ocassional wayward blog peruser will find themselves running across this and feel as if I owe these casual contemporaries a lil' bit of time and English.

scribbled on a napkin when i'm parked down your street

you can't be home.
you can't feel like home.
and you're not there.

i saw you last night.
i don't know why i'm here.
i'm not sure what i expected.

maybe there would be words.
words can start something.
i don't want to fight anymore.

should i have held on.
you should'nt have left so.
i loved you but you're wrong.

i'm leaving.
you can't stop me.
find this napkin.
i know you saw me.

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