Dear Strings,
Who’s sung?
And whose tune —
Beats in this ****** room?
When I could have just followed you,
hearing you out, your melody.
Tugging you closer to me.
Pulling on the string till I find your tail.
The long tail that has accompanied
My days,
fawning for attachment, belonging, company, distraction.
Four years pretending to escape,
and I still want to forget everything,
stop living slices of celluloid,
and become you.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 1:54 AM UTC
Dear Strings,
Who’s sung?
And whose tune —
Beats in this ****** room?
When I could have just followed you,
hearing you out, your melody.
Tugging you closer to me.
Pulling on the string till I find your tail.
The long tail that has accompanied
My days,
fawning for attachment, belonging, company, distraction.
Four years pretending to escape,
and I still want to forget everything,
stop living slices of celluloid,
and become you.
