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ryan-topezPoems
I've seen her once before, Two years ago to be exact. I followed her through an art exhibition, A Tim Burton exhibition in fact. Thoughts of her pale face, Taunted me for years. Like film reels, pictures played in my head. From ear to ear. Year to year. I politely apologised to the people I ran into. Never before had apologies fallen from my mouth, So insincere. My mind was on auto-pilot, My body was in flight. The people I nudged past were merely complications in the weather. Storms, on a grey sky night. She walked into a room, Not a soul inside. And as sure as I was unsure, I trailed behind. When I entered the room, With not a soul inside, She was not there. Had she gone outside? Had she disappeared into the brisk air of the night? I despised myself for such anticipation Well **** me, Had I been deceived? Why would my mind play such unpleasant tricks on me? And enforce a false sense of reality? The epitome of deceitful lust. Was my mind, like most things in my life Something I would have to learn, Not to trust? Two years later, I saw her once more. And two years later Her pale face, I explored.
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
The Teenager & The Teen Stranger
I've seen her once before, Two years ago to be exact. I followed her through an art exhibition, A Tim Burton exhibition in fact. Thoughts of her pale face, Taunted me for years. Like film reels, pictures played in my head. From ear to ear. Year to year. I politely apologised to the people I ran into. Never before had apologies fallen from my mouth, So insincere. My mind was on auto-pilot, My body was in flight. The people I nudged past were merely complications in the weather. Storms, on a grey sky night. She walked into a room, Not a soul inside. And as sure as I was unsure, I trailed behind. When I entered the room, With not a soul inside, She was not there. Had she gone outside? Had she disappeared into the brisk air of the night? I despised myself for such anticipation Well **** me, Had I been deceived? Why would my mind play such unpleasant tricks on me? And enforce a false sense of reality? The epitome of deceitful lust. Was my mind, like most things in my life Something I would have to learn, Not to trust? Two years later, I saw her once more. And two years later Her pale face, I explored.
ryan-topez
Written by
ryan-topez
Australian
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
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