there is an emptiness that hangs in the air around here. sometimes the sound of the tv drowns it out but mostly it is there, shouting in my ear. don't you see? the sirens outside wail at me and the man on the corner shouts. he needs more. does he think he's the only one. i need more. since the day i was born i've needed more. but it doesn't make it so. needing has never meant deserving. what if the stories are true. what if all good things do come to those who wait. i will be right here if you need me.
so the cabinet flies open revealing an apphaling content. rotten potatoes, bags of wheat infested with some form of larvae and a lone can of consomme screaming "dinner" at me from it's stifled corner of hell. how did it come to this? was there a turn in the road which I missed, a bad deed being repaid with interest? somedays i feel as though my karma cup is full and i just don't know how to get to the counter to cash it in. with my luck i would locate it only to find it closed for the season. i think for now i will focus on the soup, i really wish i had some crackers.
1 comment:
you've always had a way with words for as long as i've known you. i certainly hope you decide to write those words somewhere that more people can see them.
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