Friday, May 30, 2014


I miss giving random misses to mundane routines.
Sitting within closed walls longing to wet my feet with the waves..
I wait for unhurried mornings, sunshine bathing my body.
For leisurely afternoons I spend with my favorite book.
I miss days when I am not controlled by a watch. 
I miss to reminisce. Smiling to myself. Meeting myself. 
In the maddening run, I miss myself behind.
Until I feel empty and hollow. 
And I look behind, and see myself starved.
This whole business of missing, 
I do it for a living, but I miss living while doing it.