i always thought i'd be the kind of girl
to smoke between pauses in conversation
that is, if i had the money
or the insanity
to pick up an addiction with a price tag
if i grew tired of feeding my impulses
with obsessions locally grown

i'd be useless with a cigarette between
these fingers always grabbing at something
the edges of your coat as you walk away
the turf of imagination, yesterday's newspaper
the love letters i've yet to receive
time and its taunting invisibility
i'm always reaching for the panic button somewhere

because someone is always loving someone more
and i never knew you but still felt hollow
without you
and i feel emptier now than ever before
no one prescribes open heart surgery for
the broken-hearted, only time
unavailable for sale or even rent

there is no time to be found here
imperceptible hours scrambled by miles
i'm missing someone, always loving someone more
and before i met you
there was a different subject;
i wonder if he feels the shift,
knows i gave up on sharing our story.

07/24/2006

Posted on 07/24/2006
Copyright © 2024 Philippa Jane