"halfhearted" poems
"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
***Estranged in summer rains'
landscaped dissolution
evincing season's discontent
neath sun's suffocating alienation;
used to rhyme with warmth
and effulgent delectation,
emotional realms fizzled in a
heated halfhearted sizzle
of down-pour's restless manifestations***
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
Personality problem monumental
Attempts to change inconsequential
Learning to care
A constant struggle
Desperation to scream
Producing nothing but mumbles
A freshly broken heart
Can make one so humble
Mind pollution
No abatement
Dissolving solution
Emotional Contagion
Recycled love
Halfhearted statements
Am I enough?
Romantic damnation
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC
There are flowers springing from my bones
in places they were never planted
fracture my skull and call it apathy
I say pain is a better road than dying alone;
can't you see the way my vision is blurred,
squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage
burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just
surface things, right?
the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up
pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm
;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage
or manage the leftover evidence;
did somebody forget their brakelights on?
I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head
rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left
in my system
system check, leaving sticky residue
behind me in my heavy concave tracks
softly trailing back
gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack
my ears ringing like a sound clap;
bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement
things we don't want to lack,
leave the last stack
where I can mull over the aftermath
digging graves for those who are still alive,
burn my skin tonight
burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive
still kicking like the second round
the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time
don't let me out of the house tonight,
god knows what I might find.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
What do you do at 3am when you're tired and bored and its raining?
Maybe this is punishment.
For eating those grapes before you paid for them in Sainsburys.
Or that time you forgot who Buzz Aldron was, or when you took pleasure at beating a five year old at Cluedo.
She started crying, and even then, you still
would not relinquish your title.
Maybe its for that time
You were accidentally racist to the chinese guy taking your order.
Or when you forgot to buy your mum a birthday card, or when you made fun of your best friend for not being taller.
Or when you said, 'Maybe
selective breeding in humans,
Is not such a bad thing after all.'
Yes, Its definitely punishment for that.
But maybe its for all the litter you've dropped, inadvertently or on purpose.
Or for last week when you accidentally kicked the cat, or for stealing those library books,
For swearing at kids
and blaspheming at the dinner table,
Christ!
Maybe its for nicking your brothers chips, even when you're not really that hungry.
For halfhearted apologies handed out like office stationary, for scoffing at most modern art.
For not revising when you
Really, really should
...But telling your parents you are.
But even with all of this, isn't the punishment, just a little bit too harsh?
Well now you are sarcastic, and bitter and pessimistic at least 90% of the time.
And you do hide the fact that you quite like country music, and that you have a blanket with sleeves (and you genuinely use it) and that you're really rather patriotic at heart.
And you didn't say all that stuff when you should have.
And you said all that other stuff you didn't mean
And you spend far too much of your time
Invested in impressing the people you're never going to see again.
And you realize all of this... at three o'clock in the morning, alone but for the fading of the rain.
And you swear to yourself, with all the fervour of a tired insomniac. That tomorrow.
There. Will. Be. Change.
But in the cold, harsh light of nine o'clock the same day. Six hours after you fell asleep. You resign yourself to the fact that last nights punishments can all be absolved, by a nice warm cup of tea.
And despite what you say
at 3am when you're tired and bored,
listening to the sound of the rain.
You will always be a pessimistic idiot, with delusions of grandeur.
That watches too much American TV.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
you tell me
you'd rather leave
than smell the smoke that lingers on my skin
you tell me
that i can't be happy
when all i have is nicotine and halfhearted lies
you tell me
not to play with fire
because i might burn myself to the ground
but what you don't realize
is i am a wildfire
and i want
to burn
((out))
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 9:31 AM UTC
Here I am
In this four-walled box
The door is open
But bound by locks
The key is present
But not at hand
If I could just reach it
But I don't think I can
At first
Anger resided, Sister Bitterness too
Then stark Coldness,
The winds of Biting Blues
When the walls
Began to fade a little
I outstretched my hand
T o reach for the key
Only to make it to the middle
My fingertips just scraping
On the nothingness of air
I pulled back fast
Fell back in the chair
For all I knew this was a halfhearted attempt
And rushing back came Anger and Contempt
Coldness and the winds of Biting Blues too
For, after all, nothing follows through.
The door remains open
But the locks still locked
The key still present
But not where I thought
For as Father Time ticktocks days away
I begin to think
"What's all this worth anyway?"
And again I try
To reach for the key
My eyes finding that all along
It's right in front of me
I reached out
A tentative hand
I met no obstacles
But barely hoped to land
I moved forward a few more steps
To bring me closer to my goal
The elusive but stationary key to my soul
This time cold metal and warm skin touch
I feel a small thrill
Fear or Excitement?
I can't tell much
But all too soon
Oh, when will I learn
That you have to want it
To feel the burn
For yet again
I left the right things unsaid
And felt the painful yet familiar shreds
Of Frustration and Anger
'Cause I can't or won't say
The words that will save all my days
So yet again
I face failure
But at the root of it I know
That part of me's holding back
Fearing to be accused of putting on a show
The fact that everything comes down to me
Should place me on the right track, I see
But I just can't ever seem to reach
The KEY
So very elusive, yet always stationary
As Father Time ticktocks the days into months
And anxieties creep too dangerously near
Again, I start to ponder and then fear
While seated in a four-walled box
The door is open but bound by locks
The key is present but not at hand
Will I ever reach it?
Please tell me if you believe I can.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
1.
I feel
fractured splintered defeated
entirely insular
and spread to thin
all at the same time
covered with insecurities
like a cheap suit
or hollow exoskeleton
nothing more than a lie. I grow tired.
I'm bluffing my way through this life
a brutal honesty
I lack the courage to accept
hiding my face
from every mirrored surface
a halfhearted attempt
to prolong this detrimental denial.
I can't ******** my way
through self-reflection
and trying to improve my image
feels positively improvised.
I lack sincerity and authenticity
an individual breathing without zeal
I need a break.
2.
Here I am again a lonely itinerant migrating
to the proverbial and often visited crossroads
rather than contemplating
a direction worth navigating
be it following in the worn footprints of others
or a path long overgrown with neglect.
I'd rather lie down on the gravel road
and nap in the open air
just to wake up confused and temperamental.
The destination remains unknown
my indecision remains intact.
I give impetuous a bad name
by reputation and repetition alike
conjoined twins that speaks to
fate and circumstance.
Like Houdini
I'm secured in a long sleeve shirt
dangling upside down from a burning rope
placing blame on the flame.
I need a break.
3.
I'm not as intelligent
or insightful as I once thought
my wasted youth is a testament.
A modern ruin
like so many a Blockbuster
I've outlasted my usefulness.
I imagine what could have been
clueless as to what lies ahead.
A jovial repentance
seems as likely as
success, or stability, **** simplicity.
Is it all too much to ask?
I've been on break too long.
4.
reboot jumpstart
Alleviate my stagnant, vacant lot in life
and cast off these first world problems.
Consider not the flat champagne
or the distance that separates
today from death.
Speak positively to the people
that would not otherwise attract minimal attention.
Set goals both grand and plausible
with no worry of dividends
and release cynicism
and determine a trajectory
that I may see through to completion.
If for no other reason
but to say that I tried.
It's not so bad this imagined and dire circumstance.
Relax and go on break.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
I haven’t been playing my guitar as of late
and it’s not because I’ve lost interest- I still
love the same musicians I did before and I’d love
nothing more to be able to play like them.
I’ve picked it up a couple times in the past
three months and I’ve found that even though
I know exactly what chords to play and where
all the notes are that once made me happy,
it ends up sounding off and halfhearted;
that happens when you don’t press down
between the frets hard enough.
I didn’t realize that I was so afraid
of holding onto something since you left
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
Our wilier webs
woven with the distractions of self-absorption
can come to feel
cheated if we use them
only for halfhearted games of catch
and eventual release.
He’d overlooked that part.
Then there was an obligation to prey
who so willingly strayed upon the taffy
pull of his sweet and sticky strands.
The scrunch up of their wee faces
squeaked, “We deserve
to have our glued-down expectations
met with a most gruesome expertise.”
He’d just wanted to watch them
struggle a smidge,
at first.
It was a test if this muscle the scribes
ascribe as rightly plagued by pangs
was in him
perhaps despicably defective.
With each tripper-by trapped
the examinations grew
more tortuously complex,
and when none raised even
the slightest murmur of a palpitation,
he gave the web its dripped-dry due,
at last.
“The murderous truth will out,”
they say. It did, monstrously.
Now his bound but gagless masques
are always well-attended.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
i swallowed the
bathroom mirror whole
threw an entire bag
of lemon drops
into the highway and
danced on someone else's grave
in a failed attempt at
self-acceptance.
it's hard
to shatter the
saccharine sweet
taste of personal hate
sticking to my hands
like half melted wax.
i've almost
given myself permission
to fail
but not yet.
hasn't it been
stovetop memories
a couple haircuts
and one hell of a year?
scratch the back of my
neck
in a halfhearted attempt
to forget
and i'll take up burning
aluminum pillows
like i took up
loving myself.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
What makes you feel better
Than long walks at night,
A lung's breath of cold air,
Inklings of dreams and aspirations
With a halfhearted plan to get there.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
One year older
No more wiser
Aging an inevitability
Unwanted
like rain in summer
or a scuff on a new pair of shoes
A day for celebration
should be a day for mourning
black veils and chrysanthemums
a footstone for the grave
A retailers delight
for card companies and cake shops
not for halfhearted smiles
or aging discontent
For me, just another day
One year older
no more wiser
aging an inevitability
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
I feel sad again
I don't know why
I play around with it in my head
But there's still no reason why
Maybe it's because I fail at all I try
Maybe it's because I am not special
Maybe it's because I'm too weak
Maybe it's for no reason at all
Maybe my outlook is simply too bleak
Suicide; I haven't thought of how
In a long time
Suicide; I have thought of when
Maybe now
It seems as good a time as any
But how to do it?
The choices again are too many.
I tried it once and failed
(Story of my life)
A halfhearted attempt derailed
I am sad again
I don't know why
I am deep
Below the sky
Help!
I shout
In my head
Help!
I never shout
Out loud
Again why?
Oh let me cry
I want to weep but I can't
And here again WHY
I feel alone
My heart beat frozen
I want to show how I feel
On the out side
But it never seems right
I am a in a solo fight
Again
WHY?
I'm heavy and fat
But I hate the heavy feeling that stops my simile
But I hate the heaving feeling that keeps me in bed
I hate the heavy feeling hovering all the while
I hate the heavy feeling that's rotting my head.
I'm fat and I hate it but I'm sad and I hate it more
This heaving feeling I abhor
Am I rotten?
Am I rotting?
I don't see the point
Is there one?
I am sad
Again
I don't know why
The pain is too much and has been going on for far too long
Good things never last and bad things find a way to stay
I feel abandoned and alone
I feel like I have no home
Lost in a dark forest
It's black and all around are the screams of who I used to be
In the distance I see a tall black tree
On it a rope
I tie it around my neck and set myself free
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Cinnamon sonogram
Detect the abnormalities too late.
Morning after birth of
a placebo placenta.
Irrigate the porcelain
of a lost labor laboratory.
Love found not within the arms of
the golem grasping for straws.
-
Wailing a harmony of blue and red.
Pumping panacea.
Steady the pace, you hotheads
with elegant electric veins.
On Monday she sung so sweetly and
whispered her prophet tales.
Saturday appeared as an echoing,
hollow and halfhearted hymn.
-
They retreat in rebellion;
lapping at salt laced lacerations.
Rye, grain, roots, and grapes
for the Baroness of the Barrens.
Weeping waters leads to the
sleeping daughters that dangle
their threats like fishing hooks
off of the edge of a world so flat.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
No matter how wide we smile together
Or how hard we laugh out loud
Or how often we talk to each other
Or how we seldom join a crowd
I can never be more than that
*We smile together
But I am not the reason for that smile
We laugh out loud
But every time we laugh out loud, it is halfhearted
We talk a lot very often
But the subject is not about you, me or us
We seldom join crowds
But you would sometimes make me feel like an outcast*
I can not complain
Nor can I refrain
From the fact that I will never be the first
Nor the last at worst
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
The rabbit hops through the snow,
Almost disappearing
As his fur is bright and white as the fog behind him.
He halts when he sees the large black bear.
The bear spots him immediately.
The bear bounds over to the rabbit,
And stands on his hind legs after they touch noses.
The rabbit ***** his head to the side,
And the bear paws at the note tied to his neck.
A man clears his throat.
The bear jumps, obviously shaken by the noise,
While the rabbit edges closer, chest puffed out and head held high.
The man laughs.
"I won't hurt you." The man says softly.
"That note, I believe it's for me."
The bear is crouched,
Seemingly trying to hide behind the rabbit.
The rabbit sticks his little arms out to his sides,
And shakes his head.
The man frowns.
A lion appears behind him.
And then a tiger.
And then cats and dogs and birds and snakes.
"There haven't been animals in this wood in decades." Explains the man. "All these animals are just like you."
The bears slowly looks up and blinks at the other animals.
The rabbit puts down his arms.
He suddenly bounces towards the man, sniffs him furiously,
And then grabs the note off the bear's neck.
The bear lets out a halfhearted roar,
And sits down.
The man reads the note.
He crushes it in his hands, and calls to the various, now having become animals.
He stands, back turned to the bear.
The bear's eyes go wide.
"All of your people did what they could to protect you. It is now that we seek vengeance for them. It is now that we take back these woods, our land. It is now that we save the remainders of our people. We have become, because of them. It's time we pay our debt!"
The rabbit stands at the man's feet. He looks awe-struck, and he squeaks in agreement while the other animals grown and yowl their responses.
The bear does nothing, but stare at the man's back.
Because out of the man's back
Sticks a wind-up key.
That just keeps on spinning,
With no end in sight.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
****** Mary sunset
Soft tequila sigh
Ivory teardrop tumbler
Disregarded sky
Street breeze through the window
Kettle on the stove
Chopin in the parlor
Empty pack of cloves
Resonance of redwood
Essence of the earth
Shrine to Mother Mary
Sacred ****** birth
Portraits on the table
Gazing toward the floor
Cobwebs in the dresser
Tucked behind closed doors
Violins descending
From the upper room
Dissonance impending
Lost in worry’s womb
****** Mary sunrise
Flower pillow sigh
Alka Seltzer tumbler
Halfhearted goodbye
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
I have become the ocean of bad ideas and halfhearted attempts that laps at your shores and beckons for you to come and get your feet wet, wading in the tides. Won’t you come in for a swim? My sharks don’t bite much, unless they’re angry and the jellyfish aren’t poisonous until they find you naked and exposed. My surging waves surround the tiny island of your reason and become all that you see because I’m all you’re looking for at this moment...you’ve blinded yourself to better opportunities…I am the truth you won’t face or find out about until later. You know what I’m talking about lady. I’m the tattooed “Bad Boy” sitting across from you, the one who excites you. The one you can’t take your eyes away from long enough to see the “Good Guy” sitting in the corner.
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 12:57 AM UTC
MY DARKEST DESIRE COULD IGNITE ALL OF HELL’S FIRES.
WITH MY SELF-SERVING ACTIONS THAT TWIST ALONG MY JADED INTENTIONS. MY DARKNESS HIDES IN PLAIN SIGHT AND WILL NEVER BE MENTIONED.
OUR EYES MET THROUGH A CASCADE OF STRANGERS, MY DEMON INSTINCTIVELY RECOGNIZING YOUR OWN.
IT’S UNNERVING THIS KIND OF LOVE..
UNKNOWN TO MOST AND INTIMATE WITH EVEN LESS.
DESCRIBED ONCE AS A LOVELY AFFECTION THAT CAN CUT BONE GIFTING A LINGERING CHILL.
PURE FREEDOM IS WHEN YOUR EVIL EXPERIENCES ANOTHER’S..
WICKED PLEASURE.
BOTH FIENDS WELD TOGETHER TINY PIECES OF THEIR HEART. A BOND CREATED OVER THE FIRST WICKEDLY SHARED SCANDAL. LINKING ONE TO THE OTHER FOR ETERNITY-PURE UNDYING FREEDOM.
THERE IS NOTHING AS TRULY FREE AS BEING YOUR ABSOLUTE WORST VERSION: THE NIGHTMARE YOU.
KNOWING THERE WILL NEVER BE LINES DRAWN OR REPERCUSSIONS FOR CREATING CHAOS IS LIBERATING. IT’S OBSESSIVELY TEMPTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS. EVEN WHEN YOU YOURSELF KNOW NOT TO WREAK HAVOC.
EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS AN OPTION WHEN BEING CATASTROPHIC WITH SOMEONE REFLECTIVELY FRIGHTENING. THERE ARE NO SHAMEFUL SECRETS, HALFHEARTED LIES, OR EXPECTATIONS. IT’S INSPIRING.
MY SHADOW SELF WAS WORSHIPED AND EMBRACED FOR IT’S WILD WICKEDNESS.
YOUR DEVIL IS IMPOSSIBLY SATED AND CONTENT WITH THIS FRESHLY ALTERNATIVE HIGH. BUT THERE IS ALWAYS A SECRET TO TELL, A PROMISE TO BREAK, AND AN ITCH TO SCRATCH.
LIKE ALL MONSTERS, MINE WANTS TO LEARN, NAY IT CRAVES! TO CONQUER THIS SEDUCTIVELY STRANGE SIN.
ALL SKELETONS OF EVIL LEARN THEIR WAY AROUND THUNDERSTORMS OF CHARCOAL RAINBOWS. A DARK DEFORMED BOW IS A TRUE IDOL FOR ALL IMMORAL ACTS, CRIMES, AND TRANSGRESSIONS. THE ONLY PRIZE THAT WILL BE FOUND AT THE END OF THIS DARK RAINBOW IS THE BLACKEST OF HEARTS-SYMMETRICAL TO YOUR VERY OWN, A PERFECT MATCH.
WILL I WIN YOUR BLACK HEART OR WILL YOU WIN MINE?
LET THE GAMES BEGIN,
IN LOVE TO BE LOVED BY A SAVAGE LOVER.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
A cursed affliction of the heart
A human condition that drives us hither
And thither chasing a ghostly calling
On a restless search for mirages
We are all actors
Playing our role
Said a great sonnet writer
We use to quote platitudes
But what of those who wander
A crossroad of diverging futures
Where one role does not satisfy
Their boundless hopes and desires
A poet one moment
A grave digger the next
Who shovels mud in the darkness
And finds meaning in the light
A role fit for a novel maybe
Or at least a bad play
Starring unknown faces
Gesticulating to an empty theatre
Some find solace behind the pages
Of a tattered copy of Crime and Punishment
Leading a vicarious life of alcoholics and whoremongers
And some become what they don’t read
Blessed is the mind whose devotion
Is pure, untainted by the spectre
Of what is and what could be
Charting a singleminded road that plods on
To heights heavenward
To places unexplored
In a narrow field of vision
Towards a sunlit horizon
And not be stuck in the bogs
Of indecisive action
Of halfhearted measures
In a dreary haze of possibilities
But it’s only a cosmic joke one would say
For why did the Almighty in his wisdom
Make a world so vast and beautiful
Our ambitions so conspicuously lofty
And our fleeting lives so very inadequate?
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
Staring in a mirror. Again
It makes me feel worse just to see
I braided my hair so neatly
Now it's falling apart at the seams
There's a comparison there
Let's not look into it
If I stick pins in
Tie up all the loose ends again
It'll look neater, sure
As long as you don't look too close
Cause there's a glittering metal barricade
Of a halfhearted hairstyle I tried to save
Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 11:08 AM UTC
*She was undeniably warm.
The spirit in her is as balmy as summer.
A soul brimful of hopes and desires.
Until a sudden day came,
when everything feels bleak and inexplicable.
Fear created a room in her.
The tangled mind she has is devouring her spirit
and she started losing spark.
Things are slowly becoming halfhearted in her eyes;
even prayer becomes a tough battle.
Her mornings are frigid.
Her smile turned into misery.
The cold vibe she's facing,
made a winter in her heart.*
-Steph Dionisio, August 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
I dive right in even though
I know that by the time I get
to the bottom the pool will
be shallow
and when I stand up and shake
the water from my hair and
open my eyes I know for certain
that the water will have drained
away entirely. Just me, soaking,
sopping, sobbing in an empty
pit of gray concrete. I will still
dive because that
fall
through the air
will be the most precious thing,
I suspect. I am sure it will be for
nothing in the end but before then,
it will be for you.
I will do it for you and for my
own selfish reasons, because it's
you, I know, and I will never find
another like you nor will I try.
When you leave I want to remember
you properly, with your eyes shining
but not from tears. Smiling eyes,
laughing pools of brown, open.
Always I will remember you and
I want the memories to be perfect
because I love you and I am not
as selfless as you and I want to
remember love this way so that
when I fall into the shallow water
and the shock flows up my spine
and stings my soul I can remember
your face and remember
that I did it for you, that love is strong
enough to push acrophobia off the
edge and send it
s o a r i n g
with arms spread wide and eyes wide
open. Maybe if I can remember that, the
soaring before the fall, I will try again
to find it even though I know it won't
be your fall. I will continue in search
of it anyway, a hopeless search for
something halfhearted, but I will
continue it whole-heartedly, that I
might always be reminded of you.
And now, I will embrace the concrete
floor, the stinging of the spirit and
the soaring of the soul, as I fall, that
you might see my smile and enjoy
the fall with me,
before it crashes.
That is how much I love you.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
When you sit
Amongst loose-knit rubble
Like a halfhearted apocalypse
With your hands out,
Fingers splayed
As if to say, here,
Here are my pieces,
Weave me back together,
I will just stare through
The hole shaped from inky dusk
On my horizon
Etched when you escaped
Into a pinpoint of skyline,
Trying to remember
The sensation of liking
The person you love.
I don't want to hurt you,
But conniving with empty palms
Will not wrinkle your spine
Enough to make you see
That standing up straight
Was never the point.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC