Another day spent alone
surrounded by people
who think they know me
who don't know me
who can't know me
who won't know me
and yet they are not
adrift in a sea
of hatred
of loneliness
of silence
at least, not like me.
And I ache.
No one to turn to
or talk to
very un-average
and that keeps me
secluded
except one
one who understands
one who listens
one who actually cares
a kind of person
that's hard to find anymore.
Yet I ache.
One hundred twenty seven
miles between us
and no way yet found
to bridge that gap
only a phone
keeps us in touch
while keeping us
from touching.
So I ache.
But I did promise
one day
some way
we'd be together
I will not go back
on my word
maybe soon
maybe not
but eventually
I may not ache.
I need a hug.
CHRISTOPHER
MESTON, would like to note that things are actually starting to look
up from the last time he appeared in Purr (Issue # 10). He's not as deep
in the backwoods anymore, although his school is still the same regressed
crap hole it was before (can you say 7th Grade level courses advertised
as 10th Grade?) and he's still dealing with morons. He's still gleefully
insane and un-stereotyped, and is likely going to Long Island this Christmas
Break to take care of some matters that have been pending solution for
two years now.
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