"apoxyed" poems
smiling at myself
stretching the skin
across the skull it covers.
I would erase you
but then you'd be
forgotten.
trouble down the line
fools apoxyed to the
barstools they'll die in,
listen to the symphony
of gutter rain
just like me...
I changed who i was for you.
For you, amor, for you.
Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 10:23 PM UTC