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Sometimes I want to confess
How much I depend on a substance
To write something fresh and new
Something built on drunken faith and chance
Build my sonnet to rhyme
In my drunken stupor
My words founded on the dime
And the meaning without who, for
An unsung meaning to her
Him be bewildered
And world be condescending
What the two want together
Be condescending
As if I can describe
The feeling I burn to identify as mine
Roo Feb 2016
Do not
send me to sleep
alone
with my fears.

Invalidation
may be the key
to my heart,
but the journey is
made clear with
gas lights.

Let be me sad.
Do not make me feel guilty.

My face is blue.
the sky
reflects off my pain
that is
mirrored in the
ocean.


I am mistaken
for water
when the land is
safe.
I mistake you for
the fisherman who
claims to
adore me.
I wrote these little bits for some pages in my drawing journal.
svdgrl Jul 2015
Where does it lie?
It's either throwing sand
or digging holes.
It's either loyalty
or tainted souls.
Proclaimed neutrality.
I call bs.
It's fear wrapped up
in indifference.
Can't let them know
that you're watching them.
Scoffing, bitter
when you're really wanting,
when you're really loving.
Condescend,
you're better than ill.
You see a shrink.
You've never been still.
I try to accept those in places
I used to be.
You try to forget
you were ever less-
running from one end
to the other.
They're bad,
and you're good.
With no in-betweens.

— The End —