i do not write in pencil
it's all written in real
no pattern, no stencil,
hand drawn hard feel
inhale exhale
whatever air is available
words need breaths to exist
yet breathless i persist
never been in a band
my words never heard
left to hold my own hand
trying to unthink my words
no eraser available
(though noe is erased & dull)
so i babble feeble
(though no words escape my skull)
eyes blink
to rid themselves of the red
but don't disguise a think
cuz the lids are hiding brain-dead
can you breathe underwater
believing she's oxygen for you
can you breathe when you want her
but she's allergic to you
soft socks should soothe a soul
on a cold night in a Shannon cuddle
and be the only thing worn on the morning
where we have each other waking for moaning
i thought She Loved me deeply
NEEDED me
(butt found there were cracks in our foundation)
i believed we were US forever
walked the waking dream of our Love Affair
(butt learned she could lose the fascination)
i was in LOVE
She was dating
i found The One
She was just dating
February 3rd came & went
harbringer of the death of clint
March 8th was the final ****
of the last of my living will
been in a haze of agony
where my own jester hates me
i wake daily in a daze of disbelief
to a nightmare real with no relief
my tears don't fall
they flow
strong & steady
acidic yet empty
and their side-show-bob
is the echo of my sobs
i keep writing poem after poem
of pain
PAIN
when the only poem i've ever wanted to write
is the one She wants to re-read every night
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
i do not write in pencil
it's all written in real
no pattern, no stencil,
hand drawn hard feel
inhale exhale
whatever air is available
words need breaths to exist
yet breathless i persist
never been in a band
my words never heard
left to hold my own hand
trying to unthink my words
no eraser available
(though noe is erased & dull)
so i babble feeble
(though no words escape my skull)
eyes blink
to rid themselves of the red
but don't disguise a think
cuz the lids are hiding brain-dead
can you breathe underwater
believing she's oxygen for you
can you breathe when you want her
but she's allergic to you
soft socks should soothe a soul
on a cold night in a Shannon cuddle
and be the only thing worn on the morning
where we have each other waking for moaning
i thought She Loved me deeply
NEEDED me
(butt found there were cracks in our foundation)
i believed we were US forever
walked the waking dream of our Love Affair
(butt learned she could lose the fascination)
i was in LOVE
She was dating
i found The One
She was just dating
February 3rd came & went
harbringer of the death of clint
March 8th was the final ****
of the last of my living will
been in a haze of agony
where my own jester hates me
i wake daily in a daze of disbelief
to a nightmare real with no relief
my tears don't fall
they flow
strong & steady
acidic yet empty
and their side-show-bob
is the echo of my sobs
i keep writing poem after poem
of pain
PAIN
when the only poem i've ever wanted to write
is the one She wants to re-read every night
