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bowsnarrowsPoems
A parade downstairs and you're not invited... The stain of all things cult status- Sitting alone, in the woods chain-smoking cigarettes Like the senseless aftermath of a battle ground... Up at 5 A.M- drinking by yourself when everyone else is passed out on couches... beds... floors... And the peach sunlight starts to pierce through the blinds.... Closing time- mopping up spilled beer and putting indigo earrings in the lost and found... The sleepy rolling credits of a film and exiting the pensive theatre... Hours of images fleeting in your peripherals... Standing in an empty Time Square devoid of car sirens and people... All those faces you've met or the places you've been- That abandoned bus stop at 5 A.M It's a diatribe between now and eternity
0
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
5 A.M
A parade downstairs and you're not invited... The stain of all things cult status- Sitting alone, in the woods chain-smoking cigarettes Like the senseless aftermath of a battle ground... Up at 5 A.M- drinking by yourself when everyone else is passed out on couches... beds... floors... And the peach sunlight starts to pierce through the blinds.... Closing time- mopping up spilled beer and putting indigo earrings in the lost and found... The sleepy rolling credits of a film and exiting the pensive theatre... Hours of images fleeting in your peripherals... Standing in an empty Time Square devoid of car sirens and people... All those faces you've met or the places you've been- That abandoned bus stop at 5 A.M It's a diatribe between now and eternity
bowsnarrows
Written by
bowsnarrows
27/M
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
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