It's like being stuck on the same simple simile
something or other about the sunshine and your smile
waking up to a single sheet
bare feet, frozen
black coffee, scalding
Sweeping winds tousling hair just like
someone.
What to do, what to do,
when even dreams are not a refuge?
What are you, what are you,
another smoking pile of refuse?
What's new with you?
Don't look so confused.
I'm sticking around like dead leaves in gutters
A sudden remembrance about something or other
Waking up to a single light
bare hands, sweaty
open mouth, dry
Pouring rain drenching clothes just like
somewhere.
What to do, what to do,
when even dreams are not a refuge?
What are you, what are you,
another smoking pile of refuse?
And you haven't got a clue.
Don't be so amused.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
It's like being stuck on the same simple simile
something or other about the sunshine and your smile
waking up to a single sheet
bare feet, frozen
black coffee, scalding
Sweeping winds tousling hair just like
someone.
What to do, what to do,
when even dreams are not a refuge?
What are you, what are you,
another smoking pile of refuse?
What's new with you?
Don't look so confused.
I'm sticking around like dead leaves in gutters
A sudden remembrance about something or other
Waking up to a single light
bare hands, sweaty
open mouth, dry
Pouring rain drenching clothes just like
somewhere.
What to do, what to do,
when even dreams are not a refuge?
What are you, what are you,
another smoking pile of refuse?
And you haven't got a clue.
Don't be so amused.
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