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Ross Klein Nov 2013
With the cold air in my bones
And the warmth of my tired heart and cloudy breath...
I sit here and search for stars in the muddled night sky,
Finding nothing but the reflection of my own thoughtful iris'.

**Darkness.
Ross Klein Nov 2013
I don't know where I'm going with this...but I need to write. You know?


I woke up next to her, with a smile on my face, and doubt in my heart.

One night stand?

Maybe.

I tend to have a lot of those.
But this is different.
I met her yesterday and thinks escalated quickly.
Maybe too quickly.

Fresh out of a long, unhealthy relationship, she longs to feel resolution, peace, happiness, and an end to her torturous thoughts of what was, and what might have been.
I long to feel.

I'm learning, everyday, that life is a series of moments.
Some connected, some interchangeable, and some secluded from the others.
I  wish you could choose each moments relativity to the next.

I suppose this poem is about discontent, about feeling lost, lonely- and hoping it will get better.
And above all, needing to say something, to someone...

When there is nobody who will really understand.

— The End —