I still get my news from my hometown.
And I do not respond to my new friends.
And I cursed November when he came.
And I told myself my existence was feeble.
And I got all the movie quotes wrong.
And I was coughing all the **** time, craggy inhales and spittle in my tea.
They were all phonies then.
Except the boy
I met who
ended every sentence with
"I don't really know,"
so
everything he said could be true.
And I was running all the time in my sleep, then.
And ******* too.
And the same boy was always in my dreams - but not the right boy - the boy who was important to me only ever in sleep.
But dreams seemed important then, too.
Oh, I remember!
5 a.m.
when I yanked you out of bed, come, I am going
MAD!
(you were going mad, too,
just last week.)
The fog was not rising at all
chain smoking in respect to my lungs
and their strike on air
my strike on a way of living whose sole purpose was
to stay alive longer
what's all the yap about?
I was not sure I wanted to live
you kept on talking about dogs.
I do not want to live
you started talking about cars!
I have death in my fingertips, you fool!
You supposed heaven was real
and I thought over what I had heard:
heaven is all around us
(yes, we were in a cloud.)
And I supposed you were right
but I kept silent,
I could not put my world on you
and its godlessness.
There was a green flashing light
on the other side of Cincinnati
but you did not understand that reference yet.
But we counted all the
churches and rainy cars
They couldn't grasp at God either.
Godlessness!
it will make us all mad, then.
but it was science who spelt of protons and electrons;
and when I am GOOD
he shows me his twisted, gnarled little black heart.
and when he, angelic, comes--
I am the Darkness.
We supposed this was how God talks, anyways.
And the sun curled up again
we drank coffee
in bad lighting
over silence
the insanity
soggy waffles
night shakes leaving me and...
It took you hours to respond!
Grappling with insanity for hours!
the kinds in wavelengths
static
feeble
hours
glowering hunched electric clock in the corner
cracked windows
pane
I could not stop thinking over forgiveness
and if I forgave my father for forgetting my birthday
nine years ago
so mundane.
And if it mattered anymore
And if I forgave God
And if I would ever apologize to Him
there was a green flashing light in my baptismal basin, too.
I do not call myself Gatsby anymore.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
I still get my news from my hometown.
And I do not respond to my new friends.
And I cursed November when he came.
And I told myself my existence was feeble.
And I got all the movie quotes wrong.
And I was coughing all the **** time, craggy inhales and spittle in my tea.
They were all phonies then.
Except the boy
I met who
ended every sentence with
"I don't really know,"
so
everything he said could be true.
And I was running all the time in my sleep, then.
And ******* too.
And the same boy was always in my dreams - but not the right boy - the boy who was important to me only ever in sleep.
But dreams seemed important then, too.
Oh, I remember!
5 a.m.
when I yanked you out of bed, come, I am going
MAD!
(you were going mad, too,
just last week.)
The fog was not rising at all
chain smoking in respect to my lungs
and their strike on air
my strike on a way of living whose sole purpose was
to stay alive longer
what's all the yap about?
I was not sure I wanted to live
you kept on talking about dogs.
I do not want to live
you started talking about cars!
I have death in my fingertips, you fool!
You supposed heaven was real
and I thought over what I had heard:
heaven is all around us
(yes, we were in a cloud.)
And I supposed you were right
but I kept silent,
I could not put my world on you
and its godlessness.
There was a green flashing light
on the other side of Cincinnati
but you did not understand that reference yet.
But we counted all the
churches and rainy cars
They couldn't grasp at God either.
Godlessness!
it will make us all mad, then.
but it was science who spelt of protons and electrons;
and when I am GOOD
he shows me his twisted, gnarled little black heart.
and when he, angelic, comes--
I am the Darkness.
We supposed this was how God talks, anyways.
And the sun curled up again
we drank coffee
in bad lighting
over silence
the insanity
soggy waffles
night shakes leaving me and...
It took you hours to respond!
Grappling with insanity for hours!
the kinds in wavelengths
static
feeble
hours
glowering hunched electric clock in the corner
cracked windows
pane
I could not stop thinking over forgiveness
and if I forgave my father for forgetting my birthday
nine years ago
so mundane.
And if it mattered anymore
And if I forgave God
And if I would ever apologize to Him
there was a green flashing light in my baptismal basin, too.
I do not call myself Gatsby anymore.