wind rushed about to
antagonize the branches and the branches groaned
I am a tree and I am a pacifist and I never
hurt anybody. Quiet now and glass smooth glare in my eyes I’ll step
into the shadow and look out from here.
are these cigarettes a sign that i'm losing?
I stay up because its okay then.
nothing ever happened at 3am.
*go to sleep with the moon with a face dead like
an ocean shore line the morning after a storm*
there I walk like dreams
I took to drink
like I never had
when the old crystal inside of me
cracked
that night you said love
next to "you"
in a past tense
it all comes to some rusted gates
to a road going out
like water over falls
and suddenly my tongues undone
and through my mind flies
there are still things to say!
...
yes! a thousand wretched ****** of prose
and still not enough
I believed it all for rot
this organ's surely stone
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
wind rushed about to
antagonize the branches and the branches groaned
I am a tree and I am a pacifist and I never
hurt anybody. Quiet now and glass smooth glare in my eyes I’ll step
into the shadow and look out from here.
are these cigarettes a sign that i'm losing?
I stay up because its okay then.
nothing ever happened at 3am.
*go to sleep with the moon with a face dead like
an ocean shore line the morning after a storm*
there I walk like dreams
I took to drink
like I never had
when the old crystal inside of me
cracked
that night you said love
next to "you"
in a past tense
it all comes to some rusted gates
to a road going out
like water over falls
and suddenly my tongues undone
and through my mind flies
there are still things to say!
...
yes! a thousand wretched ****** of prose
and still not enough
I believed it all for rot
this organ's surely stone
poets sorrow
Request permission to use this poem