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Oct 2012
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.
Shashank Virkud
Written by
Shashank Virkud  Tallahassee, FL
(Tallahassee, FL)   
   Mary, L Curley, Reece, Taru M, Tallulah and 8 others
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