This place

A place for random thoughts that I can't say to the people that I want to. A place for the angry, the love sick, the hopeless romantic, the sad words that travel through my brain. This tiny page on the internet is for that. I don't know what else this could be for. I love to write and figure that rather than just talking to myself in the mirror I could write it down as I do so. 

This place is here to keep me from going insane.

writers procrastination

Always writing but never finishing anything. Constant ideas and yet nothing is complete. What is a girl to do with this? Not so much writers block as it is a mix writers overactivity and writers procrastination (if that isn't a thing can I make it a thing?). So many scenes, can they go together? hey, that's a good idea.

do you think about me?

Do you ever think about me?
Like one day in the middle of the week,
when you're bored at work.
Do you think about what I'm doing?

Just wondering,
Do you ever just wonder about me?
Do you ever just picture me,
next to you
like we were the other week
when we didn't get out of bed until four in the afternoon?

It's been a while since we spoke
Since we saw each others faces
on the screens of separate iPhones

Its been even longer since we saw each other faces
without the help of technology

Does this wonderment show how little a way we have come?
I could call and ask,
I could message and ask.
But that would be weird, that would be clingy.

And yet, probably only 70 years ago that could have been romantic,
and expected, to an extent
and of course I'm only guessing.

But I was just wondering if you think about me.