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matthew-parkerPoems
Bitter The taste in my mouth is Bitter The taste in my mouth is… A cloud of smoke Hangs over my head Reminds me of all, Of all those things you said A cloud of smoke Escapes my lungs And I want you to choke On all those things you said Worthless The thoughts in my head are Worthless The thoughts in my head are… Circles, staining wood Rings of coffee, golden-brown How different am I From those who once here stood? Ashes, piles of ashes Collected in a little glass bowl Fire burns at my fingertips And it’s here I feel whole.
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Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 1:15 PM UTC
Coffee and Cigarettes
Bitter The taste in my mouth is Bitter The taste in my mouth is… A cloud of smoke Hangs over my head Reminds me of all, Of all those things you said A cloud of smoke Escapes my lungs And I want you to choke On all those things you said Worthless The thoughts in my head are Worthless The thoughts in my head are… Circles, staining wood Rings of coffee, golden-brown How different am I From those who once here stood? Ashes, piles of ashes Collected in a little glass bowl Fire burns at my fingertips And it’s here I feel whole.
Written by
matthew-parker
American
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 1:15 PM UTC
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