#playsonwords
i've scrambled
trying to find the whites of my eyes
(have i cracked yet?)
it all boils down to the thoughts i've poached from others
(i exist to create, not to consume)
i tried looking at the world sunny-side up, but the devil in me broke the yoke that i used to share with Jesus.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
It seems for the first bit
I was always Gatsby,
Lightly tugging on threads
but never having anything unravel.
I'd march madly through the world
Missing the point, by love I was blind.
Daisy, oh Daisy,
To have her love again
'Twould be divine.
And then I lost my Daisy.
"She" flirted with the idea of a return.
But it never stuck, call it bad luck
Regardless, a lesson was learned.
In Part Three, the now,
Gatsby became Nick.
I saw my own self.
My self drawn hell
And I knew Gatsby
couldn't stick.
And I thought quietly to only myself...
To never return to Gatsby, old sport,
would be quite swell.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
I bet you think this is about you.
But I'm not hung up on you anymore.
Nor will I ever be again.
Just don't come sit at my table...
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC