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christopher-blanckPoems
Here we go Here we don't Admit defeat In surrendering Arms are useless No reason in doing right things Pointless fighting Lashed out of friends and enemies Have you seen me running? No trust and Not trustworthy At second glance Explicit content Becomes Imaginary Quickly lost my sweater Lost my shirt Summer rolls around Sadly I can't help this. We won't speak again I'll make sure of it. A stronger drink In a bigger glass I can't stand that It's all going to break. Needle still spins on Without echo Without tone Without devotion Laid side by side Too intimidating Dead branches of a tree We still insist on using Classical vibrations Muted with a finger persuading Soon we will be shipbuilding In arid climate Is it worth it? Telegram obsessive Rumor possessive Thinking of excuses For a second time. Thinking of triplets For snaking bass line. Vagabond breath I'm always losing. Rip tide took me out Walls of sand Struggled then saved by a stranger but I thought you were my father. Back to hotel rooms Or Empty rooms As if nothing ever happened. I can see a stone They put you under. Eased our minds That we could temporarily forget Then find you again. We made each other god In worlds less than holy.
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:25 AM UTC
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Here we go Here we don't Admit defeat In surrendering Arms are useless No reason in doing right things Pointless fighting Lashed out of friends and enemies Have you seen me running? No trust and Not trustworthy At second glance Explicit content Becomes Imaginary Quickly lost my sweater Lost my shirt Summer rolls around Sadly I can't help this. We won't speak again I'll make sure of it. A stronger drink In a bigger glass I can't stand that It's all going to break. Needle still spins on Without echo Without tone Without devotion Laid side by side Too intimidating Dead branches of a tree We still insist on using Classical vibrations Muted with a finger persuading Soon we will be shipbuilding In arid climate Is it worth it? Telegram obsessive Rumor possessive Thinking of excuses For a second time. Thinking of triplets For snaking bass line. Vagabond breath I'm always losing. Rip tide took me out Walls of sand Struggled then saved by a stranger but I thought you were my father. Back to hotel rooms Or Empty rooms As if nothing ever happened. I can see a stone They put you under. Eased our minds That we could temporarily forget Then find you again. We made each other god In worlds less than holy.
christopher-blanck
Written by
christopher-blanck
American
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:25 AM UTC
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