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Everyday I am better and worse at the same time; they actually cancel each other out. Sometimes I wonder if I am making any progress at all.
I no longer count the days until I get to taste your breath again, toy with your hair, trace the constellations on your skin. More than Research Methods, Second Language Acquisition and Pedagogical Grammar, I have learned to take one day at a time. I reward myself with images of your chest's rise and fall.
Today I am luckier than yesterday; the often mute illusions I take with me to bed are accompanied with your heavy breathing. All too soon I shall succumb to my lethargy, and lose grip of this pretty thought that our earphone wires make us one.
In the background, the roosters do all the cries of frustration on my behalf.
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Your writing skills are amazing! Seriously, the words' choice and the sentences' connections are so well thought out. *sighes* Wish I could write like that too. The only time I write seriously, like carefully choosing every word, is when I'm writing my stream of conciousness. Know what I mean? I just want to make it really real, so I try to reproduce all my thoughts. Anyway, keep it up, from today on you've got one more fan! :) xoxo
ResponderEliminarLove the first paragraph. The feeling of lost is carried throughout to the whole poem.
ResponderEliminarBut Pot, it's not a poem. Or maybe.
ResponderEliminarsaan ka pupunta, everybody.
ResponderEliminarhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ighPjgXqlPk
ResponderEliminar