Indecisive, haphazardly lofty, dreaming - don't mean to seem rude but I must come off that way when I try to eek myself out of unfamiliar situations and conversations.
I'm easily distracted and writing even a "short" story feels like a big commitment. I get too distracted to paint a painting or deal with the detail of hatching and shading. I want to say everything all at once. Then get frustrated saying actually very little.
I deeply love the romantic, the tranquil, and the ridiculous feelings that visit from time to time. Those that sigh from the steam of my coffee cup.
I'm back now in my hometown in the deep south, joyfully living with my ever affectionate Dutchman.
"I wrote this poem in highschool after reading "The Bells" by Poe. My highschool was much too small and always crowded, so this poem was inspired by the daily chaos of going to class."
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