Lost Thrill....

I grow so weary, someway, of all things

That love and loving have vouchsafed to me,

Since now all dreamed-of sweets of ecstasy

Am I possessed of: The caress that clings—

The lips that mix with mine

with murmurings no language may interpret,

and the free,Unfettered brood of kisses, hungrilyFeasting

in swarms on honeyed blossomings Of passion's fullest flower—

For yet I missThe essence that alone makes love divine—

The subtle flavoring no tang of this Weak wine of melody may here define:

—A something found and lost in the first kiss

A lover ever poured through lips of mine.

My Loneliness..........

My lonliness is self inflicted,
I created it within my own thoughts.
I'm not holding people at arms length,
I'm beating them away with a bat.
I can't hold on to someone I never let in, Never really had....
but I can't seem to forget the kindness, patience and kiss.
I have givin so much of myself to these people of the past,
I feel I have just shards left to give.
I reach out to make new friends,
But my voice falters after "Hello".
Social skills gone, the will to trust.... hidden.
How can I recover something that is so far gone?
I am not a solitary person, yet here I sit in a solitary world.
Created by me, my own personal hell.
I continue to reach out for love and draw back a nub,
Friends are losing patience, so is my own mind...
Hold on, hold on, hold on... I'm trying to cure the inside.

Here I sit, on My Nest...

Just looking to try this thing out

This Is Me....

This is me.....

The tired eyes you see,

the hair in a mess from work and plenty of exasperated fingers being raked through.

This is me....

The woman in the worn t-shirt, shorts and flip flops,

wandering through Wal-mart with a hunger for anything but cartoons or chicken nuggets.

This is me...

With breasts that sag from years of nursing babies.

With a c-section scar and tummy pooch...

with a strong desire for someone to kiss that doesn't smell of cherry suckers or Fritoes.

This is me...

With haunting memories of lovers past, and the realization that they would not even know me now if they saw me like I look today.

This is me..

The woman that makes eye contact with you in the checkout line, the sparks fly, we feel the magnatisim...

then your wife walks up and it is over.. that few seconds of excitement just enough to get me through the rest of my night.

This is me...

That craves strong hands and stubble burn, instead of sticky hands and little feet in my face. Who craves the smell of a man in the hot and sweaty embrace of sex.

This is me..

Alone in a bed, aside from the cat and some crumbs from this mornings toast and dressing fiasco, the woman that longs to be held and yet is relived to have silence...

This is me...