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these days there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. these days, on an occasional Sunday, you are where I end up. I run the same errands every couple of hours. I cook for a starved party of one, who’s never hungry when it’s time to eat. I try to write but it doesn’t come out the way I feel. I play musical chairs with my thoughts and find enlightenment every ten minutes only to lose sight of it every five. understanding isn’t the same as finding assurance. I smell the scent left on my clothes in attempt at remembering who I am. I let the water stream as I sit in the shower. tucking my knees into my chest pretending they’re your arms. I stare at the grout connecting the pieces of tile creating lines of compromise between what I thought you needed and what I wanted to give you. I finish bottles of wine and arrange them like flowers. white,red. I try to read but I see your initials everywhere and it drives. me. mad. I can’t write though I reserve the right to blame it on my inability to find my favorite pen. I stare at the clock. I stare at the clock because I am out of errands to run. I cook for a starved party who’s lost her appetite. I can’t find words. I play mind games though it doesn’t bring me any insight. I smell clothes. I still don’t recognize myself, my scent. my arms are terrible at being yours. my vision’s blurry and I don’t know if it’s the tears or the bottles of flowers. I find my pen. I write your initials. there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. on an occasional Sunday, I can’t tell the difference. these days, I run errands but you, you are always where I end up.

Title

Topic

Associated Topics

abstract	ambiguous	AmericanTragedy
AngryPoetry	anguished	AnniversaryPoems
BirthdayPoems	ChildrensPoetry	ChristianPoetry
CongratulatoryPoems	DarkPoetry	dedicatedpoems
DreamsandWishes	drugabuse	EmotionalPoetry
Event	FamilyPoems	fantasy
fictional	FriendshipPoetry	goodbyepoetry
Grief	group	Haiku
hbadday	Holiday Poetry	HumorPoetry
insomniac	InspirationalPoems	InternetLove
limericks	LostLove	LovePoetry
LoveRemembered	MiscPoems	MothersDayPoems
mythology	NaturePoetry	news
Nostalgic	obsession	oops
PetPoems	PoemsonBeauty	poets
political	psychoticpoems	SadPoetry
schoolproblems	scifi	SecretLove
secrets	self-harmpoetry	selfstruggles
SpecialOccassion	spiritual	StoryPoetry
Suicide	surreal	Test Topic
toughstuff	Tributes	war

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Authors Notes

Poem Text (html)
DO NOT remove the line break <br /> html coding at the end of each line break, these are needed to form the correct lines.

there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. these days, on an occasional Sunday, you are where I end up. I run the same errands every couple of hours. I cook for a starved party of one, who’s never hungry when it’s time to eat. I try to write but it doesn’t come out the way I feel. I play musical chairs with my thoughts and find enlightenment every ten minutes only to lose sight of it every five. understanding isn’t the same as finding assurance. I smell the scent left on my clothes in attempt at remembering who I am. I let the water stream as I sit in the shower. tucking my knees into my chest pretending they’re your arms. I stare at the grout connecting the pieces of tile creating lines of compromise between what I thought you needed and what I wanted to give you. I finish bottles of wine and arrange them like flowers. white,red. I try to read but I see your initials everywhere and it drives. me. mad. I can’t write though I reserve the right to blame it on my inability to find my favorite pen. I stare at the clock. I stare at the clock because I am out of errands to run. I cook for a starved party who’s lost her appetite. I can’t find words. I play mind games though it doesn’t bring me any insight. I smell clothes. I still don’t recognize myself, my scent. my arms are terrible at being yours. my vision’s blurry and I don’t know if it’s the tears or the bottles of flowers. I find my pen. I write your initials. there’s a thin line between boredom and I miss you. on an occasional Sunday, I can’t tell the difference. these days, I run errands but you, you are always where I end up.

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