Too much static on the phone,
Slurred words like an electronic
Intoxication
That only the creatures of the night could translate,
I wait for you to finish,
To quit pouring out your heart
For no real reason.
Why are there tears?
Why are there tantrums?
I find myself throwing back the blades,
Words so sharp
It's like I am there plunging them
Into you myself.
I shake,
I quiver,
The stream of assailing aggression
Drowning the mouthpiece
Until I am sure it'll burst into flames
And shatter into oblivion.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC
Too much static on the phone,
Slurred words like an electronic
Intoxication
That only the creatures of the night could translate,
I wait for you to finish,
To quit pouring out your heart
For no real reason.
Why are there tears?
Why are there tantrums?
I find myself throwing back the blades,
Words so sharp
It's like I am there plunging them
Into you myself.
I shake,
I quiver,
The stream of assailing aggression
Drowning the mouthpiece
Until I am sure it'll burst into flames
And shatter into oblivion.
© L.J. Chaplin
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