#lingered
I take a peso
in a wallet
And toss it
in the well
I whisper slowly
in the side of
and wish a night with you,
instead
So i,
I seek the crowd,
youre standing.
You turn around,
i was hiding,
barely breathing
evaporating,
gasping,
left on oxygen
and so i think
of breaking the glass
and break my silence
But i dont want
you to notice me
Of violence
and so,
I gasp again
and walk away
So im writing to you
Instead,
Knowing this was just
a methaphor
of how badly
I want to reach out
and talk to you
Again.
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 9:01 AM UTC
The only thing he was closed to was
the bottle or his gun...
Caressing both gently as he lingered
on this chair..
He had thoughts of yesterday,
The barrel still had that
just used smell,
he sniffed the casing.
Smiling at the cold effortlessness
for which he knew it was
going to be used once again.
As he leant back the front door opened,
A gentleman strolled in,
turning his rooms dim lights on.
Not even noticing me sitting
there, smiling as he walks past..
A head then pops back around.
The pistol pointing at his blank expression,
I use the gun as a pointer showing,
him where to go.I can see in his eyes he want
to run, to do something stupid.
"Don't even think about it,
as I wave the gun at him,
as I if I were gesturing him
"No,
He sits there, calmly sweating.
Eyes racing around his skull.
A hundred and one bad ideas of what to do...
But there is only one out come.
Its ok, I tell him. if I were going to **** you,
I'd have put one in the back of skull outside when
you were concentrating on opening your front porch.
So we find ourselves in a predicament.
My son found out about my past from you?
He's a version of me, at a younger time.
But I wanted to bestow on him knowledge of
my transgression at a moment of my choosing...
So when a parrot talks to much do you pluck its
feathers, or do you snap its neck?
what you think!
What should I do, so many things my son now
thinks he knows...
Do we have an understanding here..
He nods in a hastily manner,
the next day I watch my son,
the **** of my heritage
go to the parrots cage,
He answers the door..
Words are spoken, Raised voices are spoken.
Then the door slams in my sons face,
he kicks the door,
he has my temperament that kid.
As he drives off, I wait,
the parrot is flying the coop..
As he gets in to his car echoes bounce of the
surrounding as broken glass falls like broken
snow flakes. The interior now painted with
his mistake. Parrots should never talk...
I walk off, later finding my sons car.
I smell the barrel, god that smell never
gets old.. putting it in his glove compartment.
taking my gloves off I wonder in the house.
Asking him why there's a pistol in his car?
Running out he grabs it out, and now his prints
are on it.. lets see him betray his old man now..
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
There is sunshine where the clouds once were
There is warmth radiating down
Beaming down to mother Earth
Warming us with her love
Love that was taken
Taken by storms
Storms that raged
Lingered
Gone
Brian Hill - 2019 # 269
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC
My lovely precious bee,
Behave
The hive isn’t for you
It’s for us;
But we’re dead together ?
So its dust
I have a broom
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
You were never gone.
And I was kidding myself.
You write on my heart.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 4:42 AM UTC