Come Hither.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Hey man, sing me a song.
Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head? And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall? Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes, looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you? Oh, does he know that indentation in your neck that is your favorite to be touched? And does he cry through broken sentences like, "I love you far too much"? Does he lay awake listening to your breath, watching you drift to sleep?
Metaphors, but mine does.
Apparently there is only a pair of scissors in my entire house. Those that you use to cut threads. How pathetic, but desperate situations call for desperate measures. Have to make do. So I cut my overgrown bangs myself. With a thread-cutting scissors. I revived the bangs, that's right. Could not deal with the overgrown mid-life crisis bangs. And I can't resist the calling of my past 'Curtained World'. So I did what I had to do. I cut them.
Speaking of which, I need to bring Sparky for haircut. He trips on his own overgrown paw-pad hair. And then I think he's pretty edgy with it he attempts to gnaw them off. Kind of explain the state of the countless balls of tangled hair, which of course, I helpfully just keep snipping them off. What a loser dog.
Sigh, I am bored, but I simplified. I am lonely, but I'm independent. I am calm, but I miss my emotions. Been hell of a wasted week.
Of course, over-caffeinated as usual.
Which, explains my senseless post.
"Metaphors, but mine does."
Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head? And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall? Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes, looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you? Oh, does he know that indentation in your neck that is your favorite to be touched? And does he cry through broken sentences like, "I love you far too much"? Does he lay awake listening to your breath, watching you drift to sleep?
Metaphors, but mine does.
Apparently there is only a pair of scissors in my entire house. Those that you use to cut threads. How pathetic, but desperate situations call for desperate measures. Have to make do. So I cut my overgrown bangs myself. With a thread-cutting scissors. I revived the bangs, that's right. Could not deal with the overgrown mid-life crisis bangs. And I can't resist the calling of my past 'Curtained World'. So I did what I had to do. I cut them.
Speaking of which, I need to bring Sparky for haircut. He trips on his own overgrown paw-pad hair. And then I think he's pretty edgy with it he attempts to gnaw them off. Kind of explain the state of the countless balls of tangled hair, which of course, I helpfully just keep snipping them off. What a loser dog.
Sigh, I am bored, but I simplified. I am lonely, but I'm independent. I am calm, but I miss my emotions. Been hell of a wasted week.
Of course, over-caffeinated as usual.
Which, explains my senseless post.
"Metaphors, but mine does."
posted by Lynette # 11:40:00 PM 
Archives
July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010
