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Apr 2020
Stevie - your name is echoing as loud as your laugh through my thoughts
(Reverberating against each cinderblock wall in the hallway of my mind)
Making dreams of you to easy to lose; I awake drenched in sweat as if I had to swim laps around a lake created by my past mistakes.
Hoping for a hope of an exhausted sleep that will allow any type of mental escape from the memory of your face for now.
My eyes stare down upon this paper -where black pen ink kisses blue printed lines and cannot deny how dismal the ambition of my shivering soul has become knowing "home" is here even when the day is done.
Surrounded by bricks, brick talk, different licks &South Side spots.
I swim... alone for now. In this aquarium crowded with sea serpents who's shady intent is always apparent. Its possibly (actually most likely probably) by poise or tails told of incriminating feats. White walls. Mopped floors. White socks. ***** feet.
My pulse has to scream your name at my heart repeatedly or it will ceaseskip a beat and flounder low & get lost lost in this tiny fishbowl sea.
To understand statements made like "I miss you more than you know" (written) will never show even as and even though it's the emotion behind the letters sent that continues to grow (envelope&stamp 76cents).
I begin to become engrossed with fear that the same mind that amplifies my life with endless summer images of you is the same one (unkind) making semidark and never alone time, too much time before I realize...
Before I realize I dont know (how) - what to write
Typing
Deleting
Dreaming
Fearing
I forgot my thoughts and left my ability to write with my other personal items that are still 30 days out of sight.
Is it possible to finish something that may be a somewhat, sort uv'-a poem, even if you don't know where it begins? Where do I begin again?
I wish these wishywashy lines I try to describe could outline my heart and outlaw me trying to say "I love you, I miss you, I NEED you next to me my muse" so you can take away these shady midnight shadow trails of literature debauchery.
Feeling lost, my mind must have left to find its Soul... or maybe its Sole ability.
I forgot how to write.
So, now, I wish upon this fluorescent and never absent star, that these last letters placed together when read by you will caress your soul and. Gently.whisper. He loves her truly (and her of course my love is you).
His whisper of forever .
G Lachlan Curry
Written by
G Lachlan Curry  31/M/Mansfield, MA
(31/M/Mansfield, MA)   
829
   Fawn
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