she folds herself into the chair
and carefully takes her purse apart
its ten thousand pieces form fit into neat piles of
randomness on the kitchen table
she places a picture of her old lover on my forehead
a drawing of a photographic rendering
its open face page stares down at me blankly
and rants slowly in dead languages
of its oblique view of the universe from perspective of a blind beggar
with his relief at being free of handbag confines
the grieving young widow wearing her wedding dress
runs into the vestibule and assaults the coat rack
trying to find her husbands face hidden in the pockets
after all the cheating ******* always getting head from every floozie
left traces of himself all over all kinds of women
if lips could get pregnant he'd have a million children
she unwraps a notepad from her covered perch
and scrawls letters to famous dead figures of history as
she lurks in the coffee houses seeking poetic romances
she hangs round women's bathrooms for ***
there are large cracks in her family portrait
and she fills them with silly-putty and bubble gum
the widow is now running thru the wood
naked as a jaybird
she carries her wedding dress in a demon infested box
and she screams things to alienate them from any ideas of escaping
she would rather bear their burden than loose them on the world
she is a **********
and i adore her
and everything about her
i would do anything to help and protect her
i am in love with her too
if you knew her you would love her
she is a wonderful person
nobody else can manufacture a entire universe from a homeless bag lunch
build a castle with its knights in shinning armor out of cigarette packs
find something dumpster diving and walk across town to give it to someone
that would give it a good home
remarkable people like her are always close to my heart
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
she folds herself into the chair
and carefully takes her purse apart
its ten thousand pieces form fit into neat piles of
randomness on the kitchen table
she places a picture of her old lover on my forehead
a drawing of a photographic rendering
its open face page stares down at me blankly
and rants slowly in dead languages
of its oblique view of the universe from perspective of a blind beggar
with his relief at being free of handbag confines
the grieving young widow wearing her wedding dress
runs into the vestibule and assaults the coat rack
trying to find her husbands face hidden in the pockets
after all the cheating ******* always getting head from every floozie
left traces of himself all over all kinds of women
if lips could get pregnant he'd have a million children
she unwraps a notepad from her covered perch
and scrawls letters to famous dead figures of history as
she lurks in the coffee houses seeking poetic romances
she hangs round women's bathrooms for ***
there are large cracks in her family portrait
and she fills them with silly-putty and bubble gum
the widow is now running thru the wood
naked as a jaybird
she carries her wedding dress in a demon infested box
and she screams things to alienate them from any ideas of escaping
she would rather bear their burden than loose them on the world
she is a **********
and i adore her
and everything about her
i would do anything to help and protect her
i am in love with her too
if you knew her you would love her
she is a wonderful person
nobody else can manufacture a entire universe from a homeless bag lunch
build a castle with its knights in shinning armor out of cigarette packs
find something dumpster diving and walk across town to give it to someone
that would give it a good home
remarkable people like her are always close to my heart
i really dont like how this turned out...i spent the last twenty four hours tinkering with it to no avail...im just gonna post it and move on....and emily IS a wonderful person, me and my girlfriend both adore her.
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