I want to paint you a picture
of a spaghetti cloud
raining meatballs
and the marinara dripping
off starchy tendrils
like dew off a tilted blade
of summer's finest grass.
I want to paint you a picture
of a feline thunderbolt
with its' hair on end
and the screeching
echoing loudly
like the persistent mews
of an unfed kitten.
I want to paint you a picture
of a lost little girl
with her hairbow missing
and her eyes
opened quite wide
like an owl
who has gone blind.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
I want to paint you a picture
of a spaghetti cloud
raining meatballs
and the marinara dripping
off starchy tendrils
like dew off a tilted blade
of summer's finest grass.
I want to paint you a picture
of a feline thunderbolt
with its' hair on end
and the screeching
echoing loudly
like the persistent mews
of an unfed kitten.
I want to paint you a picture
of a lost little girl
with her hairbow missing
and her eyes
opened quite wide
like an owl
who has gone blind.
I've felt more and more dysfunctional lately. I kind of wonder at all the bizarre thoughts running through my head but I can't exactly stop them but rather help them escape and stay away.
