Regression to the Mean

A kind-of poem, very rough form. (accidently blogged it, then cut and paste. Be gentle)

I don't know how to spell it

But it's truly how I feel

Just when I think I'm set

I truly am alone sometimes

We aren't supposed to admit it

That ooze sliming its way down your gut

When you find yourself alone in your concern

Alone in your love

Alone in your life

That phone call, the only one all day

Doesn't help

A reminder of how distant you are

And how brisk the friendship

Regression to the mean

And the mean is a pun

A mean pun

An average pun

Just when you think that a family is healing

Or that a friendship is good

This feeling strikes.

One day I think yes,

The next, I don't know.

I plod on,

Without moving on,

Being better

But not complete

Having an outlet that doesn't hear

(Damn, I love hugs)

I hang in limbo,

Never honestly making a decision

That stupid regression.