Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

missing.

It’s not debilitating
In fact
It keeps me warm
In the soft, muted
Solitary slumber
Of snow-wrapped
Nights
Nested inside of me
Images of you
Gently embrace
My soul

December 21, 2008 Posted by | Poetry | , | 1 Comment

growing up.

watching the dance of the distant colorful blinking lights

cutting fantastical rays through dark November fog

while miles away you while away

days chasing after an idealism

deficient in substance

I no longer call to mind

our little fairy tale.

November 21, 2008 Posted by | Poetry | , , | Leave a comment

Noticing.

she sees you, ya know

from your safe distance, shooting glances

that fall heavy upon her bruised ego

you thought she overlooked

secret shared stories and inside tales

while you didn’t dance the night

away that time

you don’t think she can tell

how you store away every little word

that falls from glossy lips that always

seem to have the scent of mandarin

or how detailed her image is in your mind

when she’s not around

but she sees you, alright

she sees you.

September 11, 2008 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , | 2 Comments