"All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling."~Oscar Wilde.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Mornings: When I open my eyes and don’t want to get up... I pull out my phone to see the time, the glowing digits stare back wickedly... I want to huddle back inside the covers, go back to the 'comfort of strangers' ...in my dreams. Sometimes I think there is a door opening and I bang into a wall. A huge, unrelenting wall...