a poem for today, 9 May 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of seven sentences and its image]
The love of possession is a disease with them.
So many stupid dramas are based on this theme.
My love disassembles me when I sleep and puts me back together so beautifully each morning.
Because pain is something society should embrace, and stop shunning as if it were a disease.
It got to the point where I actually had an appendix rupture due to telemarketing calls.
And I was shy then, so when she would look at me, I would look away.
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