I'm In Crisis. I'm About To Bump

Chromosomal Dance Oh, Heavenly Happenstance Rare Creation, You -marcus (poetry Spam #22)

I Thought Marcus Was Going To Be In My Life Forever. Then I Thought I Was Wrong. Now He’s Back. But This Time I Know What’s Certain: Marcus Will Be Gone Again, And Back Again And Again And Again Because Nothing Is Permanent. Especially People. Strangers Become Friends. Friends Become Lovers. Lovers Become Strangers. Strangers Become Friends Once More, And Over And Over. Tomorrow, Next Week, Fifty Years From Now, I Know I’ll Get Another One-word Postcard From Marcus, Because This One Doesn’t Have A Period Signifying The End Of The Sentence. Or The End Of Anything At All.

You Can Only Be In A Bad Mood For So Long Before You Have To Face Up To The Fact That It Isn't A Bad Mood At All; It's Just Your Sucky Personality.

Then A Lightning Bolt Shot Straight Through My Skivvies. Sha-zam!

Then Again Maybe There's Something That I've Been Doing In The Privacy Of My Own Bedroom My Whole Life That I Think Is Perfectly Normal But Is Actually Illegal In Thirty-two States.