I'm seeking gratification.
Romantic, intellectual, torrid, and simplistic.
I'm hiding in unmade beds and unwashed dishes, clever and careful and carefree.
Except I'm not.
I'm reclusive in my lack of reserve,
and I'm finding sorrow in the discontent of platonic handholding.
Here's to attempts to saving myself from myself.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
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