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kyle-kulsethPoems
Dead-eyed through drenched days spent seeping through blank space to spill another swollen week out                   on a crumpled page I'm young, but not that young grown up and dumbed down so I'll drag one more punchline day out                    'til a year's ground down Face the wall... Aimed at the door... But we're still here and so          I suggest that we share this bar... Stumble out regain my feet and pluck my keys from the gutter. I've been dancing with defeat and, now, I'm driving on the borderline between familiar haunts and same old foes that I conjure-- Now I start to realize that, like you, they've got my number. They've got my number. Rhombuses of light              separate us--not by much                      but these square miles of concrete               will divide us just enough Deadpan Friday nights space out workday lifelines until another starving paycheck                grounds another flight Your time spent so costly the bill's due, your words freeze a season's regrets regressed. Empty                 bottles taken out. Besieged by walls Afraid of doors the nights leak in, you turn      the lights out, choking down one more Waking up, you find your breath you find your feet and your reasons. You have found your boots and keys and lost your fear of the season's size. Between the years and months you've been a ***** and a miser when the skyline creaks and sighs, remember you've got my number And I've got your number The world's got our number--                  --it's okay to come over We can laugh at the night                at sunrise, we'll run for cover 'til the season is over           now, just run for cover...
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
Numbers & Covers
Dead-eyed through drenched days spent seeping through blank space to spill another swollen week out                   on a crumpled page I'm young, but not that young grown up and dumbed down so I'll drag one more punchline day out                    'til a year's ground down Face the wall... Aimed at the door... But we're still here and so          I suggest that we share this bar... Stumble out regain my feet and pluck my keys from the gutter. I've been dancing with defeat and, now, I'm driving on the borderline between familiar haunts and same old foes that I conjure-- Now I start to realize that, like you, they've got my number. They've got my number. Rhombuses of light              separate us--not by much                      but these square miles of concrete               will divide us just enough Deadpan Friday nights space out workday lifelines until another starving paycheck                grounds another flight Your time spent so costly the bill's due, your words freeze a season's regrets regressed. Empty                 bottles taken out. Besieged by walls Afraid of doors the nights leak in, you turn      the lights out, choking down one more Waking up, you find your breath you find your feet and your reasons. You have found your boots and keys and lost your fear of the season's size. Between the years and months you've been a ***** and a miser when the skyline creaks and sighs, remember you've got my number And I've got your number The world's got our number--                  --it's okay to come over We can laugh at the night                at sunrise, we'll run for cover 'til the season is over           now, just run for cover...
kyle-kulseth
Written by
kyle-kulseth
M/American
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
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