She called me
She called me
a little *****
in which five knuckles
and four spaces
were the only faces
that ever turned a light on for me.
Or off, as a matter of fact.
Write it on a flier, or
tie her up in the back of a limousine,
ask her to give you some sugar
and send you to sleep.
Just don't be weird about it.
And seriously,
pay attention,
you just might
burn something.
I think my voice is changing.
I press four fingers into my forehead
and smoke a cigarette like that one writer
I was too cool to ever read. You know,
they treat you like a ******** drug?
A ******** drug!
Past lovers,
and their coat hangars,
I don't wanna talk to 'em,
I don't wanna touch 'em.
But I do;
it's easy to cut into
those veins once you've
found 'em.
*I'm sorry,
so prone
to wasting time,
I love when my head
spins on an axis
all of its own.*
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
She called me
She called me
a little *****
in which five knuckles
and four spaces
were the only faces
that ever turned a light on for me.
Or off, as a matter of fact.
Write it on a flier, or
tie her up in the back of a limousine,
ask her to give you some sugar
and send you to sleep.
Just don't be weird about it.
And seriously,
pay attention,
you just might
burn something.
I think my voice is changing.
I press four fingers into my forehead
and smoke a cigarette like that one writer
I was too cool to ever read. You know,
they treat you like a ******** drug?
A ******** drug!
Past lovers,
and their coat hangars,
I don't wanna talk to 'em,
I don't wanna touch 'em.
But I do;
it's easy to cut into
those veins once you've
found 'em.
*I'm sorry,
so prone
to wasting time,
I love when my head
spins on an axis
all of its own.*
Request permission to use this poem