the air is heavy
like a piece of wet cheesecloth over my face
it hampers my breath
my heart is heavy
like a clogged swimming pool pump
it doesn’t want to move the blood through the chambers
and back out again
I tap my finger on my forehead
1…2…3 times
3 more times
somehow I think this might stop the tears
that spring from my eyes
but I’m wrong
some days nothing stops them
because the loneliness penetrates too deeply
and nothing seems right with the world
emptiness personified
ART as a WEAPON
is currently taking a break from blogging x
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Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.
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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
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I blog now. I know, I can't believe it either.
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Gay humor writer writing about cats, cat care, life, and the adventures of being gay.
Paul Johnson's comedy blog: I didn't get into comedy to be rich or famous. All I've ever wanted was to be loved...by somebody rich and famous.
MUSINGS OF A SLIGHTLY NEUROTIC STORYTELLER
