Posted in Prose, Relationships

Tapping Her Fingers

Tapping her fingers
the tune, escapes me
but it caused a throbbing
in my head,

How I longed
for her to stop, but tapping
she did, incessantly
and then,

that she trimmed those nails
to accommodate, my head
aching, and my thoughts,

I am merely, she said
tapping out the tune
of the song, that I will be singing
when you are no longer present
to irritate my fingers,
by asking stupid questions
which make me ignore
your existence,

Like now

Then, the tapping



My profile might reflect who I am, what I think and why I write what I do. My profile might just reveal the inner workings of a deranged mind, a helpless soul, and a self-destructive way of living. Don't worry. I'm OK. I've just lost sight of my little sister in the evening clouds....

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