Is she a lover, a friend, or just another shadow cast on the bar wall in the night.
I admire her beauty,
the southern bell accent,
and the promise under that skirt.
I thrive for quiet spaces,
Solitude, and still manage to transcribe my thoughts deep in the crowd.
I was never built for more than this. Realization of my truths take time and destiny gathers dust in my pen.
I belong to the days I have wasted and the future worries melting onto this page.