The desire
to know you
feel you
breathe you
haunts me.
I am an automaton
an empty vessel
broken
scattered
lost
without you.
Where will I turn for comfort?
Each face is fickle and judgmental
Each goal temporary and distracting
None lead me closer to you
Am I left then
to wander these roads a lonely nomad?
Have you no place for me
in this home?
Monday, July 20, 2009
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