Sometimes
Sometimes
you’re all day
alone
trying to rearrange
a half-finished house
and you sit
by the dryer
and cry
because it isn’t
the life you wanted
and you wait for him
so you can say you’re
pissed
then he does something
sweet
or funny
and you can’t.
Categories: Poetry
Nice work. Why don’t you blog more often?
Thanks.
Back to working on my poetry (and vetting it on poets.org), so I hope to post more soon.