Hmm, I've been addicted to writing lately. Writing anything. Short stories, fanfiction, poems. I can't stop. Especially fiction. Because every time I write, I feel myself growing better. It's refreshing. It's all I want to do. I was up til 2 last night. I was also talking to Morgan, which was really nice. I can't wait to live with her, and of course, see her for her bday in June.
I'm job hunting tonight. I can't stand sitting around anymore---despite my free time to write.
Haven't heard anything back from the doctor yet. Mom said they're faxing info to her. Concerned.
I have some stanzas of a new poem worked out below---
In the Interest of Self-Preservation
My hand retreated from want of you
wrapping every finger instead around
cups and mugs
wine glasses wine
bottles
Concern dug holes
in my ventricles
set snares in my veins
put out a bounty on this need
Meanwhile I close my eyes to you
I close my lips to you
and you shrug and roll your interest onto its back
I remove my trust in my eyes
They whispered (clever
foxes) as you watched me
across rooms
you want me too
If I could think with precision
I would study measurements where hope drops
to the table like ashes off a cigar
I'll mark my love with chalk boundaries
until I learn how far
I can allow my need to wander
now I will call with maternal concern
keep between the Sycamore tree and the red Chevy
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