The night is stormy,clichéd, I know,but unfortunately true.
It means tonight I write ininstead of out.
I wish I could be out,in the sense of being okay enough with myselfthat I could tell anyone anything.
I wrote a decent poem onceabout vodka and myself.Will that happen again?
pat, your friends love you so much that you can tell them anything and that love will not disappear.
ReplyDeletelove just doesn't do that. it doesn't disappear. promise.
=) I need to be reminded of that. Jeez, you know just what to say to a guy, eh?
ReplyDeletei only speak the truth!
ReplyDelete