Dreary Friday

Hold me like your favorite cigarette
Close enough for comfort, but continually being put out
Lights out, can’t believe you’ve got me so strung out
But this is just a product of your affection,
Somehow, I,
Wish that you’d hold me like 
Conversations
In whispered tones, faces close together in an attempt to keep the words from escaping to less worthy ears
I stop to wonder what would happen if those words were to wander, to the world wide open, become recognized,
Materialized
Into something real.