poignant
wistful
lackadaisical
words I need to stop forgetting
---
I guess this is what happiness is?
Between spates of busy-ness, distractions,
lapses in and out of sleep
writing essays with your mind some place else
controlling urges to text or call
make plans, should I hold your hand
does it still matter or make a difference that
last week I was 8 time zones and a continent too far
than today...
no, not really. you have been and still are
on my mind, restlessly raising hell.
only today.. maybe i'll call you.
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