"personable" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
I am an escaped prisoner from barred disillusion,
A personable recluse fighting the illusion
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion.
I wonder how it is that I find optimism alone,
When collective pessimistic thoughts condone
The woeful tales that howl and moan.
I hear voices of people that aren’t there,
Yet find myself in calmness aware
Despite their tormented accusational affair.
I see ideals living and thriving out there
Even when apathy or indifference ensnare
Battered hearts and worn out minds in despair
I want nothing more than to ‘want’ so desperately
I hold onto desire so restlessly,
That I’ve tired the being of my entity,
I am an anomalous paradox captive to the sea
Where waters churn in active disharmony,
Yet comfort as it may my tranquility.
I pretend that I’ve already staked my global legacy
As if my words, thoughts, and feelings,
Have changed the world entirely.
I feel everything as I believe it should be,
Riding the waves of intensity
In emotionally humble serendipity,
I touch the stars in remote prose,
Wandering the vast expanses without close,
Wherever my mind goes, it goes.
I worry about the future of humanity,
As if I was merely here to watch observantly
From some unknown eternity.
I cry for those in silent pain
With fake smiles of disdain
Who dare not speak for thought in vain.
I am a quiet observer of the human condition
Checking and balancing sedition
Though never granting my submission.
I understand the fallibility of the mind,
Gathering as many perspectives I can find,
Theorizing everything to which I’m inclined.
I say it’s all relative but it’s all relevant
Prone to be dominated by the prevalent
Missing the subtleties that are heaven sent.
I dream when I’m awake through my ideals,
Even when they’re still just spinning wheels,
Hoping they gain traction as time reveals.
I try to be better than the day before,
As that’s the best way to keep score,
When the world has us compared to others so much more.
I hope my legacy is genuine,
I regret nothing even when I sin,
As time wears down my wrinkled grin.
I am only human, to live and to die,
That’s about all we can be or rely,
And honestly this notion breaths me a sigh.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Wow you are amazing
You look very sharp today
You came over here so smoothly
You are so clever
You brighten my day whenever I talk to you
You are so good at your job
I can't believe you remember me you are going to go far in life
You are so personable which makes you a great employee
Hey I remember you...You are the guy with all the jokes
Awe you are so cute
You look like you run this place
I am receiving all these amazing compliments but I cant help feeling trapped
Screaming underwater while my lungs fill with water
Trying to swim but the more I try the further I sink
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
A personable person propogated passion
Beneath my heavy heart
Alas, cried the caterpillar
You are not dead!
Though I have spent hours molesting your windowsill
Rapeseed!
Huckleberry!
Gingerbread Pie!
All these things and more have I maliciously misunderstood
But the lies of the soothsayer are frequently true
They are passionate pomegranates from me to you
The obelisks of oppression overpower your heartstrings
And there's nothing you can do
My villain!
My thief!
The princess of my misery!
The fiery orb and the blasphemous pirates!
Staring at your shoulders I see only my reflection
Turning on your heel my eyelids sparkle and linger at your doorstep
It's Goliath's head
Salmon and bread
Those deathly ideas which you purposely said
Tic tac guru
Just what is he to you?
And which of my words have you read?
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 6:24 PM UTC
in the closet across from the delivery room, a janitor disguised as a hospital janitor sits on an upside down bucket under which he’s trapped what might be the world’s slowest rat. in his mind he is attempting to clean his mother’s body while supplies last. his hands are curled like the receivers of certain phones con artists used back in the day to convince people they could talk only to ghosts. the young and personable volunteer assigned to the hand he doesn’t answer is speaking so softly the man leans forward.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Cell phone shield in hand,
the mirror-me peers
into a shoddy, cracked up
dream reflector-slash-protector
as I make amends with
my agitated mitochondria and
attempt to drill miniscule holes into
paper dolls without ripping them.
So screams the wall hanging!
Banshees dance, falling
into cyclical romances as
cream colored microphones peek
out around one-way windows wondering
whether or not the smiles will hold.
Eyes still,
eyes wrinkles crinkling,
spit spray sprinkling.
Connect to the dreamers.
Push your plug into
my cracking wall sockets,
pull me apart at the seams.
So cries the doorstopper!
Knees bleed from
street corner séances
and eyes green grass
that's afraid to ask
where its clover went
but heavens, it's bent for hell.
Pray tell me, burping chickadee,
when did your teeth glass over
with a film of cerulean and
your bones start sailing
through tepid reminders that
you may end this life a failure,
swallowing Uncle Ben's rice packet trash
at the dark black bottom of the Pacific?
So sighs the statue!
Broken walkie talkies
feed red back to nothing
and knick knack hoarders note
the familiar festering of deadly bacteria
in the lungs and on the
tippy top of the tongue.
Space cadets rocket
through concrete jungles containing
apartment after
apartment after
apartment filled with
mannequins filled with
sand filled with
unevenly severed hands.
So speaks the ornament!
So declares the dashboard decal!
Sensual scholarly seekers
seem so totally hip
and read feminist poetry
to dispel the myths
and spit on the irony.
I won't dare to flatter you
with the focused attention of stone
or allow the personable picture frame
to make the secrets of
the microscopic universe known.
So suggests the ship siren!
So recites the repository!
Empty yourself into me,
adopt a new philosophy,
abandon in within two weeks
so I can see and you can seep,
your fluttering robin heart to keep
and glaciers to arrive upon
a salty brown eternal sleep.
Deliver me to the melting shopping mall!
The centennial fire alarm goes off
at the tip of the cliff,
at the end of the hall.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Marble.
Smooth granite, melting, molding.
Lust making my legs heavy like I am fighting quicksand.
This is my call.
Seduction is an art, just like my body.
With curled toes and an arched back I fight my woes.
I can scrub their hand prints off with hot water,
douse my body in bleach and wake up clean.
My soul is one of the few things harder than my heart.
My soul is a brick through your windowpane
in the dead of a black night.
They call me names they do not know the meaning of.
I do not mind this,
they do not know how lonely I get without fingers exploring me, painting me like I am a canvas in need of
the perfect finishing brushstroke.
I am a woman, not an exceptionally beautiful one,
but I can still make your head turn when I walk by.
Not exceptionally personable,
but i know the power of a compliment,
and I will shower you in them until you think you have won me over.
You have not.
I do not belong to anyone,
I do not even own myself.
Remember you will never truly know me,
so go on and forget about having me.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
exquisitely beautiful "you have lovely eyes"
beautiful, pretty, attractive, good-looking,
appealing, handsome, adorable, exquisite,
sweet, personable, charming; enchanting,
engaging, winsome, seductive, **** gorgeous,
alluring, ravishing, glamorous; tasty, knockout,
stunning, drop-dead gorgeous; killer, cute,
foxy, hot; beauteous; comely, fair
"a lovely young woman" scenic, picturesque,
pleasing, easy on the eye; magnificent, stunning,
splendid "a lovely view"
very pleasant or enjoyable; delightful.
"we've had a lovely day"
delightful, very pleasant,
very nice, very agreeable, marvelous,
wonderful, sublime, superb, magical;
terrific, fabulous, heavenly, divine, amazing, glorious
"we had a lovely day"
noun: lovely; plural noun: lovelies
1. a glamorous woman or girl:
"a bevy of rock lovelies"
Old English luflic, see love, -ly [1 above]
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
it hurts
when you can feel an ocean inside
waves crashing into the boundaries of your mind
begging for release
to reach the shore
denying them, holding them back like a well-built dam
not a single drop gets through this facade
I’m an actor
in a role I never auditioned for
one I never wanted
one thrown upon me by the cruel hands of society
family
is this life better than none?
three months
I whisper to the face in the mirror
one I have never recognized
one that is not my own
i hope one day to look
and find myself looking back
a true reflection
real and not imagined
but for now I do my best
with whispers
the tears I cannot release
sweaters in the biggest size
corners to curl into
alone when I can imagine
how I’ll look when I’m me
not you
be friendly
personable
but always know your place
only speak when spoken to
perhaps if you behave you will find a nice husband
be a good wife
raising me in her image
it’s a facade
I’m fractured
a picture from long ago
broken and never properly repaired
the shards put back wrong
a smiling photo of a girl i don’t know
darling daughter
know your place
smile but not too long
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 12:55 PM UTC
I used to worry
that they'd send you away
to a life of imprisonment
because they hated you so
for no reasons they could explain
I used to worry
because their tread marks
were in our driveway anytime
they needed someone to try and pin things on
though you were never less than honorable
polite, personable, my genuinely good brother
I never used to worry
that they'd one up my worries
and send you somewhere further away than prison
I never used to worry that the forces
meant to uphold law and justice
to serve and protect
would walk blindly past the line
of no return, to botch their expected standards
while watching you slip away
I never used to worry
that there was an evil force within some people
that could destroy the glue holding our family
together, then again I was so young
so naive, to think that people were instinctively good
that people, having families of their own
would never purposefully tear apart another's
but I don't suppose they ever thought of me
and your kin, or beyond that need to bring you down
I never used to worry that the system would fail
allowing guilty parties to walk free,
to have families of their own; to not even recognize the fault and
to protect the ones who took you away
I used to worry that they'd try to send you
to a life of imprisonment, and in the end
they did send you away,
but it is a place where I cannot visit
and instead it is us, who love you so,
imprisoned in what we call life, where the fences are
the breaths I take, the steps I walk, the beats of my heart
the walls that confine me and separate me from the world
are the memories and lost time, and of only knowing you
through my childhood eyes
and the guards and wardens are the haze which clouds
my thoughts, unable to still hear your voice or see your face
in my mind
and my day of release will only come
when I walk through the gate, past the fences
to the afterlife, where my life will finally begin again.
Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 9:30 AM UTC
Growing up ugly, alternately fat and thin
eating scars for breakfast and time for tea
having almost climbed out of a buried bin
only for it to be upended & held in place with
1939's world atlas; the one that got europe all wrong
& like me, was designed with accuracy in mind
Personable birds of prey prodded, persuaded
and set free the mean old biped growing inside
beach ***** jolly popped and sandcastles raided
just to see the looks on hope & holyglow faces
their defeat in optimism: my triumph as ****
full circle towards schematic self-sabotage
Once again i am bitter drunk and to be wed
we improvised trite vows and cut ourselves
spare keys for access to one another's sickbeds
In attendance: maternal ghosts and retired reapers
hurting with knowledge & witholding screams
Liver-spotted harbingers of age and all its mistakes
Older now than I ever thought was likely:
refuse to fight against the alarms of everything
as everything and everything change around me
But there are too many different colours of skin
and i never was a tolerant, I was always just witch
Now finally alone enough to weigh my empty chairs
Surprising, that when black hands materialise
my own teeth flash & spit through septic spells
make even him blink, in his absence of eyes
For in his face is a nothing that stills me
It's the same nothing that i've rotted with
All my sorry life i'd settled this way, instead of that
To ask for one more would be greedy, wouldn't it?
Now it feels like I've begged before, i'll beg again
I think when he kisses me it will be over
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
Exhaled
motionless, in this, fervor of unearthed notion, upon an ocean, of allure. Birthed of worth, in potions of piety, thinning the stream, and depleting the anxiety, in the pure pleasantries of personable enemies, tempting me, to play to the poetic subtlety of society.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
I dream awake as a silent dragon with a jade arm and no sense of one's self,
I can talk for days losing complete track of one topic to another but I'll keep you entertained
I am the child of a man of word and a woman of nature, cursed by the nine to see truth,
I welcome all into the conversation, I am trusting that all trust me
This dragon kills for what seems like no reason, he's killed kings, presents, giants, pawns, friends and even gods,
*if you harm me so be it, if you touch my family I'll ******* torture you, death would be to pleasant for what I have in mind*
Sometimes my dreams mash with reality imposing faces onto characters, and traits into powers,
I'm personable, and a omnist, opening all the time
This provides me with challenges everyday since no one is exactly an enemy or ally and remain as such throughout the daydreams,
I assert my presence in many forms of art
He has adapted or evolved as I have learned more of reality causing him to believe he's immortal,
I am inclined to mention that we may all look a bit crazy sometimes
The really funny thing is his day shares mine but our nights are spent in his,
I am always here for you or at least do my best
However each night he's sitting on a roof planning the heist of little importance, only to discover a powerful elven princesses trapped so he frees her and they escape,
though I may be a hypocrite about some statements
Then the dragon decides before he sleeps that night that he will help the princess find out who she is,
I am simply me and nothing else, you are so much more
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 4:20 AM UTC
A famous alumnus is visiting the university. I got an invitation several days ago to a small, socially distanced, masked, focus group. It was to be early on a Saturday morning - so, why not? I was excited to see her - I’m a fan.
We were a diverse group of about 20 (covid tested before admittance) students and I was in the back row. Seating was offset so everyone could see everything perfectly. I craned and swiveled, when her entourage came into the room. Then, there she was - I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear (behind my mask), we clapped, excitedly. She wore a navy business suit. A jacket over a black blouse with slacks and black shoes.
She gave a talk, about the challenges America faces. On YouTube, her speech-giving voice always seemed artificial, cold, harsh and brittle. Here, she was low-key, motherly, whip smart, personable and humorous - everything I had hoped for.
Then there was a question and answer session (NOT easy questions - did I mention whip smart?) followed by a no touching reception line. And *** she’s a foot away. She seemed a lacquered and corrected sort of person - professional - I guess you’d say.
Everyone was gently elbow bumping with her, so I did too. You’d say your name and class. “Anais Vionet, freshman,” I said. I wanted to say “I’m a BIG fan” but I thought I might come off as either fawning or even worse someone bent on wasting her time.
We both smiled, me behind my mask and I bobbed a goodbye nod, but as I went to step away she said, “How’s your Grandmother?” I was shocked but I managed to say, “She’s fine, thank you.” To which she replied, “Please tell her I said hello.” I just nodded, “yes” as a sort of “I will,” and stepped away.
I glanced around, there was no handler by her side and she wasn’t wearing an earpiece - how she knew me I have no idea - but now I think she’s considering a run in 2024. My grandmère would be a whale of a donor.
What a bizarre encounter.
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 12:25 PM UTC
Define perfect.
Is it a pretty face, nice hair?
Is it thin as a rod, or ripped with muscles?
Is it smart, witty and brilliant?
Is it funny and personable?
Is it friendly and kind?
Is it honest and true?
Is it in the way you walk, the way you talk?
Is it in your nature, in your core?
Is it inherent or attainable?
Is it even real, or just an illusion?
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
**there's nothing personable about wintry skies above the boston harbor
it gets ugly along the ridgepole of rhode island and providence plantations
this time of year
i ink off the dome
along the varicose veins of these violent streets
we smash more
because life indoors
is the gateway to new manners
or points of psychosis
if your boo doesn't get you
enough to get along
it storms snow where we bump
some think it's fine
or that it's by design lakes freeze over here
and mold mirrors made with angels in mind
but it's a terrific tragedy
the death of colors, inhibitions and innocence
choked away from the branches certain seasons undress
the way no one knows enough to mourn
but mother nature's a chameleon
and new england is the skin that won't keep
it's the backend of the wannabe springtime middays in may
when shorties lose their minds again
a few hours every other day
rock cutoffs and capris
because the sun showed her shine again
but she's so premature
and we've dreamed dreams before this way
against the grain
so we get high to get by like smokeheads do
but i need something sexier to wake up to
like garden birds and backyard bird feeders
american robins and the orioles
that i imagine must use their sugar water to maintain better bongs
because it's a slow burn...
the backside of northeastern calendar months
and my consequent mood swings
are 1 of 2 things that need adjusting
but it is what it is, and too cold anyway
so smiles crack beneath the pressure
like glass poets in poetry slams**
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
When you think about it:
We spend the majority of our lives
Behind closed doors.
Whether it is in the privacy of our homes,
Or in our offices, schools, or church.
Most of what we do is hidden from the world.
And you never really think about what
Other people might be dealing with,
But a simple word could have them in tears.
We don't take the time to ask about
Their scars or any defining aspects of their life.
We live in a world of small talk,
And artificial friendships.
Talk to a veteran. Understand.
Find people that you have known for years,
But never truly got to know them.
Many of us don't know each other's full name,
Let alone what takes place in their household,
Or what their financial situation is,
Or why they stopped texting you back.
In reality we assume that we grew apart from them,
Or that they are mad at us; melodramatic.
But their phone service got cancelled because they
Couldn't make the payments,
Or their house got foreclosed and they're embarrassed
To talk about it.
If we consider ourselves to be their friend,
Then we should be there for them in every situation.
Be personable with everyone,
Forgive people who do wrong to you,
Love people; not just some people,
Love everyone.
We spend to much time and energy
Hating people and things.
How many times a day do you say,
"I hate"? And how many times a day
Do you say, "I love"?
That is what is wrong with people today.
Don't forget to pray
To keep it away
Keep the hate away,
Love everyone.
Inhale the future,
Exhale the past.
And pray.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Pitter-patter;
pelting peaking the poignant hearing of a peering, personable
person.
Awakened she walks;
waiting for water to weaken against the small windows,
withering away.
Flourishing souls;
stemming from spring came spitting droplets, refreshing flora.
Drab days;
dead development dawdled by dreary dates - winter is gone.
Joyful cheers!
Carrot's stones cherished close for colder days.
Winter disappears for departure.
Spring reappears for resurgence.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
if I am not near them, I do not long for music by them. at my lowest, they are hardly men and women on all fours eating garbage. you seem to know they’re naked. what they cannot eat they pause above. a baby’s black crib beneath a dream. the dream a charred tree bent over a rabbit turned inside out. the ark was Noah’s belly. the gods and the devils
simpletons dumbly yearning for a more personable abandonment.
I am not alone but am its aphrodisiac.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
evaluating descriptions
of myself and what it means
to have high arches
and elbows that crack.
or angry base ****** expressions.
I don’t look friendy.
or personable
or happy.
what I’ve found is I don’t fit
into a perfectly shaped puzzle piece
hole (that was made for me
to help identify who I am)
I am unidentifiable by choice.
or maybe it's not willingly
but rather an unfortunate truth
I have mistaken as my own decision.
all I really wanted was
someone who fit into
the puzzle with me.
like two nesting birds
that stuff their feathery bodies
into too-tight spaces.
(we don’t fit)
instead I am just one
lonely bird in a too big nest.
my feathers are ruffled
from frantic, panicked waves
of agoraphobic episodes.
this immense space
looks ridiculous
for one body
I can't be the only one who feels so
alone.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
A saunter down the byways of familiar paths and passages
A stroll in the company of long forgotten friends,
The magnificence of memories of outstanding types
Who meld in my mind in the way friendship blends.
A walk in the park with the ghosts of my memories
The personable warmth of their breath on my cheek,
Familiar phrases, a hand on my shoulder
Our companionable sauntering company we keep.
A solitary walk in the lane by the willows
Enjoying the phantoms who stroll with me there,
Reliving the joy and the laughs of the bygone
Whilst feeling the sunshine of now in my hair.
The glow in my heart for the warmly remembered
The ache in my soul for the ones left behind,
How lucky am I to be one with my memories
When many sit there recollectively blind.
Shaking the hand of a good man respected
Kissing the wrinkles away from old eyes,
Feeling the realm of a joy rediscovered
Sauntering time with my ghosts in disguise.
Marshalg
In the lane with the willows
Mangere Bridge by the estuary.
15 December 2010
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 7:26 PM UTC
Swat the butterflies whose wings
Decieve the poem and inscribes
Its colored brilliance on gilded flights;
There is no grace to his clunky
Flying and brings repetitive hooplah
To the natural poem and steals
Its personable voice.
Every language has a flow of poetry
Whose inner soul derives of the
Course of one's harmony and rhythm,
And using a star of butterflies in every
Poem brings about the very sameness
We all suffer from daily.
See the beauty in a vulture
Whose glide is magnificent
Spreading his wings in silent
Flight above rolling hills.
His beauty is not that of the
Butterfly, but it's flight is undeniably
Graceful and finding its natural
Poetic flow is deeper still.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
As a reformed anonymist, I'm not one to look down on drunks.
But today at the bar, I looked up at one and saw a beautiful disaster.
Long dreaded hippie girls have a soft spot in the corner of my heart. From the patchwork dresses to the oxymorons of a vegan ****** addict, I've loved many.
But it's sad to watch someone create themselves through liquor.
To create a persona through drugs because that's "counter cultural."
To create another line of ******** about not wanting to be a robot.
A message so timeless and repetitive that it's...
She was actually kind of personable.
The few times that day she could speak, she was even funny.
She carried herself with a grace that was quite remarkable for someone who could barely stand.
But she was on the run.
From a halfway house.
From a boy friend.
From a drug.
From herself.
There's no truly meeting someone who is already halfway out the door and already in the bag.
There was a desperation in her smile that I've seen before in my own reflection.
I don't believe in God.
But if you do, say a prayer for her.
I believe it's worth it.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 9:55 PM UTC
Down a glass of wine and hold it to your ear.
A mock ocean swirls in its holy emptiness.
You are sitting at the bottom- with nothing but death wishes
and sweet kisses.
A small hope for real love oozes from clasped fingers.
But you squeeze it away to sing karaoke at the next bar.
They love you because you are free and boundless like the red balloon
that floats in their heads,
simultaneously.
You can own them all with your laugh- how personable you are.
A pseudo sociopath on the verge of make-believe
horror stories, spilling out on to the bar-
with your last drink.
Let them think you don't play dumb.
Let them think you don't drink yourself numb.
Stomp away with your cigarette-
Do they know you know they know?
It doesn't matter- call the next one over.
The ocean will always crash in your glass-
an empty temple of company.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC