what do you want me to say, empty world?

Golden band

these images that cloud my mind,
these notebook pages with love poems lined.
it's your stories that I miss,
that underlying sense of bliss.
come find me and take my hand,
and promise me a golden band.

Back from oblivion

Sometimes I'd gaze longingly at this blog and think "maybe I should write something today" and then I'd go back to my homework. So this summer Poemer will come out of oblivion and maybe have the occasional thing to say, even though I feel like the words just float around in space.