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What little difference a day makes

Grow routine,
and quiet
and regular ruts.
occasionally, close your eyes
now and then, lift them
off the screen to look outside
tuck yourself into habits. 

some ear buds
days have just begun
start with a smoke,
time to time, release, then,
out your lungs to breath and sigh
smile yourself ‘round the roommate. 

A pattern
a diet
and seven mile runs
stop, too, stare at your hands
here and there, use them
on the door to get inside
please yourself out of malice. 

And hope you go blind. 


This is great. I think we all feel that way and you captured it so well. We are always wondering where our other half is and when they will make it to us. And I know I have asked myself all the questions that you sprinkled throughout your poem. It is a piece that is very easy to relate to. Kudos for the good job!