So, I need to pick poem 19. I've already picked my last two, so I've only got one more to pick, and it's proving to be a little difficult. See I'm just not sure what sort of mood I'm in, and although there are few that I quite like, and that show a bit of who I was and who I am, or indeed, reveal too much of me - I think the most honest and probably most fun thing to do would be include this verse that signified so little, it never even got a title.
Poem 19, 19th April 2004, 10:08pm
You’re so close to me
It's two in the morning
But I stare at the ceiling
And I’m so close to yawning.
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