I'm no good with words, but John K. Samson is a poet. And a musician. From my hometown. Observe:
"I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight, and waiting for a winter to be done. Why do I still see you in every mirrored window, in all that I could never overcome? How I don't know what I should do with my hands when I talk to you. How you don't know where you should look, so you look at my hands..."
What else...
con⋅fu⋅sion [kuhn-fyoo-zhuhn]
–noun
1. disorder; upheaval; tumult; chaos: The army retreated in confusion.
2. lack of clearness or distinctness: a confusion in his mind between right and wrong.
3. perplexity; bewilderment: The more difficult questions left us in complete confusion.
4. embarrassment or abashment: She blushed in confusion.
Lastly...
–noun
1. disorder; upheaval; tumult; chaos: The army retreated in confusion.
2. lack of clearness or distinctness: a confusion in his mind between right and wrong.
3. perplexity; bewilderment: The more difficult questions left us in complete confusion.
4. embarrassment or abashment: She blushed in confusion.
Lastly...
(ffffound.com)
"Why do I still see you in every mirrored window, in all that I could never overcome?"
ReplyDeleteBeautiful lines, capture my sentiment in its true form. Thanks