#playdough
little man by the bus stop
with his tin organs, all replaced
because his real ones failed him
(jst like he failed his old wfe)
squat top hat and fat wide smile
and he’s almost a cartoon
and he’s almost not a person.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Phone ringing with the cord cut
That's the way we like to f*ck
When we know they know
And the walls are just play dough
And the heat we make turns this shelter to clay
It makes it so intense we forget what to say
But it's okay they'd listen anyway
I'm trying to take the time to see just what makes you tick
And I was never looking for smoke and mirrors or obvious tricks
Just your essence and your presence made me question what I know
What they know
Walls made of playdough
Dusk turns to night with the lights off
So silent
You could hear a pin drop
Deep breaths slowly fill the air
Rattling these walls made of playdough
So in sync we don't even care
That they know we know
Taking the time to take it slow
In your eyes I see that raging fire
Of these feelings I will never tire
And your skin embedded in my memories
Makes me realize what I've always known
Just your touch and your existence erase the tragedies
What do they know
Through these walls made of playdough
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC