Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2015
And then they can't write anymore. They turn their faces dangling  hthreads. They are no fight and no three musketeer. There is no buddy system when you're playing for one, and your keyboard is pocked with burn marks from writing and falling asleep and writing and falling asleep; Apple and H have been missing and the Space Bar, V, and B are on their way out. The positives have become absolutelies. The women abandoned the children and their children, and dinosaurs have eaten the rest. Rest with the wicked and the wind and the women you black-tip reef shark of **** and dross and wickedness(x2), you scratch 'n' sniff barracuda for poor kitchen sink, outhouse, washer/dryer, and wet bar maintenance for a low-cost of ninety-nine dollars and nine cents; the joke is better when the numbers are written out in ink. It **** across teenagers better- that is what I mean. Nineteen year olds specifically, passion possessed, beautiful creators of 2008 and 2009. I should be about  ready to shuffle my feet, curl up my gray socks, and shepherd a Wheaties Box, donning a frog costume, with a homemade iron-on Jesus patch. It was in a box with some pogs and Michael Jordan Valentine's Day cards that I wrote to everyone that fit the profile for my Mother, at least until I turned nineteen. The magical age where even the catholic girls have found out that they're already going to hell-

-

I relive the natures of so many marauders from unclassifiable ***** that I can still taste in my mouth. Sometimes it's a fever other times it's my initials scribbled along the walls. Inquire and we'll dine, lie supine, intertwine; you can teach me about cooperative.

While you were once the queen in the body's sore sorts and blisters from insatiable bear. I'm ready to **** a lion. I'm attracted to your spine and the positions that we've lied in. The pleasure is square it's the shapes in between, non-existantly spinning me into despair. We have seen over one hundred thousand movies, we've had *** in a jacuzzi. You were the fabulous muse so bemuse me again, it's enough of shaving one leg to feel closer to you. There are a million effing elements that won' t seem to align. I'm sick and you're outstanding. We're supposed to be- I can't shut my eyes without seeing you smile, the shape of your mouth and the color of your hair.

I'm twisted up. My elbows shun me and I collapse even when I try to gather myself for walking. It's been years since I've heard
you talking. There must be a scientific law, just a clause that affirms I wasn't supposed to have purposely been given this, "*******."

My chits expired and I'm well over on my phone plan. You're the one that got me addicted to cologne, am I going extinct because I can't seem to hold anything down? The therapy hasn't worked, your therapist is a schmoozer, he's on a tract of trying to use her. Corroborating these lines of language that's died, it's so slow he sees someone himself.

Recently I learned a cure using cigarettes, Led Zeppelin, and liquid morphine, it rearranges my endorphins. I've tried very hard to support it, I've even been a good sport when I realize it's still ******* silent and you haven't called or wrote, or sent or shown me anything. Your poison is heavy. Isn't it time for me to **** the lion and go back home. When you go I'll go, when the shapes of our shadows and the dusts of our ghosts decide to go. When your face is placed on my nape and the house lights low, and I can breathe, and know that my world's other half brings all time to a slow crawl. There is some magic that can keep abright a dying star.
lions lies lying supine die death girl paloalto palo alto supplements hate love hateship loveship brtiniwest systematicdancefight britwest sf sfo sanfrancisco san francisco california Elizabeth is the only queen I see exist world earth muse bemuse amused musedandamused effing **** **** love sand beach theplateau themoonmen writing nabokov ****** loleeta loleetah missing mia hate love earth she her britniwest jacuzzi muses amused paloalto jamesfranco james franco you remember smoke drink *** **** starve hungry lonely alone solemn temper sad sadness anger remorse regret depressed depression searching seeking searchingforlove loveatfirstfight fighting lovers love iloveyoubritniwest @musedandamused @britwest I have never known more than five amazing people and of them you are the one who's face I never forget, who at 30 I have wet dreams of, who of over hundreds of loves lovers and people I've spent time with you are the only taste I have in my mouth.
Martin Narrod
Written by
Martin Narrod  38/M/CA
(38/M/CA)   
1.4k
   Puff and Brian Payamps
Please log in to view and add comments on poems