Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
three hours later at the nine and followed forty (where did you go from the four) slandered rocks he left on bricks before a bus of bad memories came to knock me down straight into the ground I thought it might just drive me to the mantle molten rock to cool my temper after living below finger pads and being trampled how could I have run when simply stunned I nearly tripped over my own tongue I need to close my mouth but here I am too kind too cruel to ever say a word but to never stop a sentence what kind of speech is my own I've never heard it real so to speak you see at least thats how it feels ask me again tomorrow and I'll say I've felt it true and that I know myself exactly who and yet across the bench is you I'm tired I'm drained I'll completely explain why I do not like you-- if only you'd sign this form of consent to never sue me over words I may have maybe said except those are never read just signed in blinded ink instead so really what's the use just take the helmet off my head (don't be silly, as if I ever had it really) he's got his heart on his shoulder but I'm not sure if there's another in his throat another one to dread I hope to find proof yet hope's all I can do for better or for worse or left for simply dead I cannot seem to tell good liars what's the truth
0
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 2:55 AM UTC
Today's Date 09
three hours later at the nine and followed forty (where did you go from the four) slandered rocks he left on bricks before a bus of bad memories came to knock me down straight into the ground I thought it might just drive me to the mantle molten rock to cool my temper after living below finger pads and being trampled how could I have run when simply stunned I nearly tripped over my own tongue I need to close my mouth but here I am too kind too cruel to ever say a word but to never stop a sentence what kind of speech is my own I've never heard it real so to speak you see at least thats how it feels ask me again tomorrow and I'll say I've felt it true and that I know myself exactly who and yet across the bench is you I'm tired I'm drained I'll completely explain why I do not like you-- if only you'd sign this form of consent to never sue me over words I may have maybe said except those are never read just signed in blinded ink instead so really what's the use just take the helmet off my head (don't be silly, as if I ever had it really) he's got his heart on his shoulder but I'm not sure if there's another in his throat another one to dread I hope to find proof yet hope's all I can do for better or for worse or left for simply dead I cannot seem to tell good liars what's the truth
sharky
Written by
he/him
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 2:55 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem