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"recollections" poems
I recognise those tired eyes with fond recollections how we made them so by the lush warmth of the fireside through the night: decadent movements. Oh, how those eyes and your body glowed.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Tired Eyes
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago, ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories, but not histrionics fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished, powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a, age and yet renews as of, at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom they even  now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of If not now, When? Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg: Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered, now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more, the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the outrageous misfortune of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** **** these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago   freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity. Enough whining: *I wrote those poems to eject out those pains, and I write this now, once more, to realize that so so many still face uncertain and unrelenting similarities, doing their own sums, and I wish them easing, strength to compose and thereby dispose of the ineloquent and eloquent words of staining suffering* 3:30am Thur July 10 2025
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Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 5:39 PM UTC
Older poems, new readers, familiar thoughts...
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago, ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories, but not histrionics fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished, powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a, age and yet renews as of, at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom they even  now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of If not now, When? Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg: Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered, now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more, the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the outrageous misfortune of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** **** these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago   freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity. Enough whining: *I wrote those poems to eject out those pains, and I write this now, once more, to realize that so so many still face uncertain and unrelenting similarities, doing their own sums, and I wish them easing, strength to compose and thereby dispose of the ineloquent and eloquent words of staining suffering* 3:30am Thur July 10 2025
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40
I am not the master of my writing - my writing masters me, seizing me when the seizure is a sure thing, it dictates to its enslaved scribe what it desires this utensil to reveal and expel - the contraries who having battled to a ****** draw leaves the battlefield trembling with indecent indecision; the optimal conditions for its macrobiotic invasion of my brain stem; the she-muse offers me two choices: she wants a poem writ forthwith on the lyrical expression of depression and refusal is non optional so I fantasize escape and that becomes her property as well; evidence against me to be used at my trials, the one where there is no statue of liberty from the limitations of prior bad acts; I offer the she-muse two choices: give me a cabin with WiFi and self-enforcement of solitary confinement and tie me up with the rope remainders of broken bonds, bonds that tied me up worse when they were broken and the peaceful withering that won’t disrupt disturb nobody from a distance my other choice is to bury me forthwith next to my parents and shutter my constant tearing eyes which are drop-resistant muse says that’s no choice I own your voice stilled or not, will bill your soul’s account for denial of poetic services weep; i don’t want the noises that curse this troubled bodyship don’t want recollections good or bad the muse-bitch cackles with insanity of delight for she accepts this writ as partial payment on her commission, whispers I love your lyrical expressions of depression that ****** recognition algorithms alert me that seizing time is nigh there is no on/off switch for one like you: father son and holy ghost
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Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
I am not the master of my writing (the lyrical expression of depression)
I am not the master of my writing - my writing masters me, seizing me when the seizure is a sure thing, it dictates to its enslaved scribe what it desires this utensil to reveal and expel - the contraries who having battled to a ****** draw leaves the battlefield trembling with indecent indecision; the optimal conditions for its macrobiotic invasion of my brain stem; the she-muse offers me two choices: she wants a poem writ forthwith on the lyrical expression of depression and refusal is non optional so I fantasize escape and that becomes her property as well; evidence against me to be used at my trials, the one where there is no statue of liberty from the limitations of prior bad acts; I offer the she-muse two choices: give me a cabin with WiFi and self-enforcement of solitary confinement and tie me up with the rope remainders of broken bonds, bonds that tied me up worse when they were broken and the peaceful withering that won’t disrupt disturb nobody from a distance my other choice is to bury me forthwith next to my parents and shutter my constant tearing eyes which are drop-resistant muse says that’s no choice I own your voice stilled or not, will bill your soul’s account for denial of poetic services weep; i don’t want the noises that curse this troubled bodyship don’t want recollections good or bad the muse-bitch cackles with insanity of delight for she accepts this writ as partial payment on her commission, whispers I love your lyrical expressions of depression that ****** recognition algorithms alert me that seizing time is nigh there is no on/off switch for one like you: father son and holy ghost
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44
*Cast out entirely this time around. There's a beautiful world waiting, But it's easy to be blinded by what you think is beautiful in a beautiful world.* In the dark for so long. The retina I own captured false images Of what i once  believed in. So much effort stored in a mirage, lodged in doubtful recollections. I want no sympathy, I can only evolve through the chasing of symphonies. Villainous, aren't you? The conflict is the enemy. I'll do away with this blame game, You're just so awfully gifted at how you play. I was the warmhearted prey Fooled into what appears to be defeat, Due to stupidity. I saw what I wanted to see, And clearly my vision was wrong. (c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith (Originally written 10/31/10 Revised 9/27/14)
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Illusion
My New Year’s Eve was spent collecting fragmented recollections to confirm that my dignity had truly died. Soberly, I perused the bars and clubs, and walked aimlessly up and down crowded streets, feeling like my life had somehow been shifted into slow motion, while the rest of the world, engaging in joyous celebration and ffestivities, was knocked out of rhythm from my existence. How in the world could the clock strike midnight? How could people embrace, and kiss at the dropping of the ball? How could they laugh and smiile, and wish each other a “Happy New Year!”? More importantly, how could those god **** traffic lights have the audacity to continue changing from red to ggreen to yellow, then back to red again. My dignity had just died. My dignity had just died. My dignity was dead. My dignity was gone. In the days and weeks that followed the death of my dignity, I noticed that life faded from colloquial to iconic, like something mystical, or an intangible object of deep longing. And recurrent images of those ******* obnoxious traffic lights insensitively switching colors replay in my mind to remind me over and over in the greens (go), the reds (stop), and the yellows (be careful), that my dignity had died. Memories of the ddays before my dignity had died run through my mind like old home movies with centuries of black and white film stuck on repeat, and slowly fraying, around the edges, because of the harsh demands of time. It is life’s harsh and cruel irony that these images, once my greatest joy, have now become inflicters of the greatest pain that I have ever felt. Like a sound wave of pain, so powerful, that it has silenced any other pain that my heart has ever heard. So now I know, it is true life is a bitch. The fading of my dignity has made me overly aware of the earth turning on its axis. As spring approached, for the very first time, I noticed the way the flowers seem reluctant to bloom, as if uncertain of their welcome invitation. Such a cruel reality, that the flowers would choose to bloom, and nature would choose to carry on, slipping further and further away from the day that my dignity died. And still, to this day, those **** traffic lights keep switching colors
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
Traffic Lights
My New Year’s Eve was spent collecting fragmented recollections to confirm that my dignity had truly died. Soberly, I perused the bars and clubs, and walked aimlessly up and down crowded streets, feeling like my life had somehow been shifted into slow motion, while the rest of the world, engaging in joyous celebration and ffestivities, was knocked out of rhythm from my existence. How in the world could the clock strike midnight? How could people embrace, and kiss at the dropping of the ball? How could they laugh and smiile, and wish each other a “Happy New Year!”? More importantly, how could those god **** traffic lights have the audacity to continue changing from red to ggreen to yellow, then back to red again. My dignity had just died. My dignity had just died. My dignity was dead. My dignity was gone. In the days and weeks that followed the death of my dignity, I noticed that life faded from colloquial to iconic, like something mystical, or an intangible object of deep longing. And recurrent images of those ******* obnoxious traffic lights insensitively switching colors replay in my mind to remind me over and over in the greens (go), the reds (stop), and the yellows (be careful), that my dignity had died. Memories of the ddays before my dignity had died run through my mind like old home movies with centuries of black and white film stuck on repeat, and slowly fraying, around the edges, because of the harsh demands of time. It is life’s harsh and cruel irony that these images, once my greatest joy, have now become inflicters of the greatest pain that I have ever felt. Like a sound wave of pain, so powerful, that it has silenced any other pain that my heart has ever heard. So now I know, it is true life is a bitch. The fading of my dignity has made me overly aware of the earth turning on its axis. As spring approached, for the very first time, I noticed the way the flowers seem reluctant to bloom, as if uncertain of their welcome invitation. Such a cruel reality, that the flowers would choose to bloom, and nature would choose to carry on, slipping further and further away from the day that my dignity died. And still, to this day, those **** traffic lights keep switching colors
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119
The picturesque glow from the full moon enkindles youthful swooning and yearning; orotund voices rising above prattle conversation yield celestial affirmations in conjunction with analogous, supernal relations Full acceptance of the shimmering stars sacrosanct messages coruscating through the sky - fulsome oracular expressions instilling mesmerizing past-life recollections.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Full Moon
I met you at the station you said wanted to go anywhere but here. I said to look for the tracks that are the most uninviting. You took my arm. I wished for something better and here it came, disguised by dirt, dislocation and greying days. Your ticket says no return but mine is undefined, watchful, ready to bolt or to linger. You say you love the stations from afar. There's not much of me requested, but the splinters that you do, I gift hopelessly. The smallest glimpse of light approaching filtered through dank, oppressive air are superior, surely? than finite life exhausted watching the dark. By the night you amplify, when you have enjoyed my fill and left with little but fingerprints and recollections, casting parallel shadows on directions that await. I give you almost everything except for the words that travel nowhere but my head. You gave me the signal a briefest flash of red that stopped this in its tracks.
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
Strikes on the Railway.
Time Slipping through my fingers Like hourglass sands Once to pass, never to return Memories merely photographs; I glance back at ribbons Tied round fingers, Quick thoughts of times once here But all things fade and wither Cycles of death take hold And all is one day lost. I ponder the question, Weighing on those with recollections, Do you remember how much You've forgotten?
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Hourglass
Oh, What a View!       from this hazy morning hue, Familiar faces        interlacing     back-trip Flashes Heart is Racing In my brain &   through my veins i still feel the                        ACID STAIN Recollections of Reckless Havoc, Wreaked when I was Trapped in Magic man   last night                                            who was i ?   right now i'm fading from my sight I am here while i am There and I have yet to    Find my Mind .
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Acid Tripping at the Gates of Trade School
***Fill my glass   of vintage     pleasures,   top it til the bubbly overflows,    as memoirs     & recollections     effervesce      beyond lucid          drunkenness,    hungover midst        an endless          toasting of             intoxicated                sensibilities***
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
Drunken pleasures
The poem was inspired by a particular photo of the WT C, and after that by my first visit to the 9/11 Memorial.  On the day of 9/11, I was working about a diagonal mile away, and from our windows, we could see people jumping to their death. Open sky annulled to bordered lines of uptown edges, worldview momentarily forcibly redefined by memories of buildings and sadder days, recollections of pillars of biblical smoke rising A photograph makes me look up, and sit down historically, need to catch a breath, to rest mentally, upon a storied small bridge's steps, that I well recall, a disappeared street stoop. all were rubble then and once upon that day. Wear, tear, and older eyes distill perspective, but the hardy heart is hardly stilled by the recognizable gray upon bon vivant gray reflective surfaces of memories of buildings and sadder days So today, on a reborn street, I rest upon reconstituted speckled curbstone, the city's lowered down ledges, the city's lowered down-town boundaries, constantly redrawn, but nonetheless, always rebuilt from their own regenerated stony compost, and the NY passersby doesn't even notice a man, head in hands, silently weeping, thinking that: We throw away so much we should have kept. We keep so much we should have thrown away. Lose keepsakes, but keep our mysterious sadnesses locked away in compartments that open only to benedictions uttered in ancient tongues. Make your own list, be your own curator, catalogue visions of sophomoric triumphs, museum mile pile those early poetic drafts, be unafraid of memories raw and ungentrified, overlaid, buried underneath postmortem of dust-piles of senior critiques Finally went downtown to see where the blessed water falls into catacomb pits that once were the foundations of buildings that ruled the cityscape, downtown anchors for a modern city that exists only because it was built on million year old granite bedrock Stone monuments are stolid, discrete. Memories are of grayed, frayed edge consistency. Negatives resurrected that survive digitally, all blend synthetically, layer upon layer, essence distilled in a single, black and white photograph that serves to disturb complacency,   awaken stilled pain, reflections suppressed, are restored
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC
9/11 Distilled
The poem was inspired by a particular photo of the WT C, and after that by my first visit to the 9/11 Memorial.  On the day of 9/11, I was working about a diagonal mile away, and from our windows, we could see people jumping to their death. Open sky annulled to bordered lines of uptown edges, worldview momentarily forcibly redefined by memories of buildings and sadder days, recollections of pillars of biblical smoke rising A photograph makes me look up, and sit down historically, need to catch a breath, to rest mentally, upon a storied small bridge's steps, that I well recall, a disappeared street stoop. all were rubble then and once upon that day. Wear, tear, and older eyes distill perspective, but the hardy heart is hardly stilled by the recognizable gray upon bon vivant gray reflective surfaces of memories of buildings and sadder days So today, on a reborn street, I rest upon reconstituted speckled curbstone, the city's lowered down ledges, the city's lowered down-town boundaries, constantly redrawn, but nonetheless, always rebuilt from their own regenerated stony compost, and the NY passersby doesn't even notice a man, head in hands, silently weeping, thinking that: We throw away so much we should have kept. We keep so much we should have thrown away. Lose keepsakes, but keep our mysterious sadnesses locked away in compartments that open only to benedictions uttered in ancient tongues. Make your own list, be your own curator, catalogue visions of sophomoric triumphs, museum mile pile those early poetic drafts, be unafraid of memories raw and ungentrified, overlaid, buried underneath postmortem of dust-piles of senior critiques Finally went downtown to see where the blessed water falls into catacomb pits that once were the foundations of buildings that ruled the cityscape, downtown anchors for a modern city that exists only because it was built on million year old granite bedrock Stone monuments are stolid, discrete. Memories are of grayed, frayed edge consistency. Negatives resurrected that survive digitally, all blend synthetically, layer upon layer, essence distilled in a single, black and white photograph that serves to disturb complacency,   awaken stilled pain, reflections suppressed, are restored
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67
A tragedy miles of time away, The anguish almost forgotten: But pain is a stubborn stain; Counselling never washes it away, New love never smothers it. Like a stubborn **** It is always there, Rooted in composted memories, Finding nourishment in the briefest recollections. The slightest trigger allowing it to briefly blossom.
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
Stress Residue
Look at yourself All ***** Blackened with a sour demeanor Rip the top off Take a look inside An endless carousel See the stars And be thrown to the next page Never to come back again The stories for the next chapter Clenching to previous excursions Remnants, recollections of once new beginnings Once you start you can’t stop Can't turn and have second thoughts Once you’re out You’re gone Falling to pieces Smoking, dangling A mental spasm A lapse, relapse Push them away They speak too loud and bright A half baked scheme It’s something to pass the time Hedges of red Busted fence posts Inconspicuously Punctured shell To the roots Vibrations to my brain Purple furlough Roofs fall Pedal till they bleed Bleed dry to the bone Till the bone breaks And the pain grapples me into submission We ignore the fruits in front Of us for the mirages We pretend are real Putting In hope and taking out lies Riding the ignorant air of pride Crawl in desperation to continue It wouldn’t lie Stick to the plan Raise the voice So they hear and believe We won’t stop till it’s found They won’t stop till I’m in the ground Buried, out to pasture Fresh fertilizer here I hear his deceit meshed Deeply in his voice Yet I fool myself to Believe due to my denial of doubts It won’t let me continue Smile for no reason When I think about it Disorientation follows Don’t utter another word The grass is dead on both sides So let’s make them equally green Plant the seed Pack a lunch As we walk, we remember The lesson we were taught to never Tread here
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
Self-reconciliation
Look at yourself All ***** Blackened with a sour demeanor Rip the top off Take a look inside An endless carousel See the stars And be thrown to the next page Never to come back again The stories for the next chapter Clenching to previous excursions Remnants, recollections of once new beginnings Once you start you can’t stop Can't turn and have second thoughts Once you’re out You’re gone Falling to pieces Smoking, dangling A mental spasm A lapse, relapse Push them away They speak too loud and bright A half baked scheme It’s something to pass the time Hedges of red Busted fence posts Inconspicuously Punctured shell To the roots Vibrations to my brain Purple furlough Roofs fall Pedal till they bleed Bleed dry to the bone Till the bone breaks And the pain grapples me into submission We ignore the fruits in front Of us for the mirages We pretend are real Putting In hope and taking out lies Riding the ignorant air of pride Crawl in desperation to continue It wouldn’t lie Stick to the plan Raise the voice So they hear and believe We won’t stop till it’s found They won’t stop till I’m in the ground Buried, out to pasture Fresh fertilizer here I hear his deceit meshed Deeply in his voice Yet I fool myself to Believe due to my denial of doubts It won’t let me continue Smile for no reason When I think about it Disorientation follows Don’t utter another word The grass is dead on both sides So let’s make them equally green Plant the seed Pack a lunch As we walk, we remember The lesson we were taught to never Tread here
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66
Vague recollections, Of curio collections, Salt and pepper shakers, unused crystal ashtrays, reflecting rainbows of northern prairie light on days bright. A prairie girl, did you miss the place near the Arctic Circle, your home?  Did Odin and Freya call you away from here to there, or was Thor, or Loki the thunder in your angry voice that I feared and may have hid under the steep basement stairs, quietly in the dark hoping you were unaware. Some of your children, and your spouse, left before you did, I know that was tough, and a shame. You were tougher, though, you did suffer in you aging frame. I know you loved us all, I know you knew me too, very early you said of me "he is a sensitive child", which I have found to be all too true, many years after you have gone I miss you, grandpa and dad, Audrey and Vic too. Did you all find Valhalla at Heaven's Gate? So I will not stir up the past, nor will I hurry, through each day, for I will remember, and smile at those memories that brought me joy, prose and rhyme not of a child, but a Viking man. ©DWE032013
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Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC
To my Grandma, Astrid
Hello underground. Hello to all of your shadows. I meet with the dimming light here at midnight. Hello small cracks in the wall. I peak through at you. See what is really true. Hello dust devils. Silence swept you away. My recollections are all I have to say. Hello leftovers. Time to eat my yesterdays. And start cooking what tomorrows say. Hello milky skin. Pale as moon and taste like love. Its what has always been all of the above. Hello underground. Goodbye to all of your shadows. I leave the dimming light at noon. Just a visit is all it was and ill be back soon.
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
Hello underground
We can make this edible without utensils In a strange, menuless kitchen Well, can you not make a salad? Take a cucumber of memory Slice it so thin that none of the recollections hurt anymore. Mince some olives so fine Their oil leaks onto the cucumber like OK. Add the pulsing flesh of bright red tomatoes But don’t slice them Just squeeze them with your hand Until they explode like wet epiphanies And dare to dice a garlic clove Without turning your nose away As invisible olfactory reality Assaults you with truth so pungent That ECT would pale in comparison To that very assault on your boundaries of understanding And then toss the whole thing Watching how it changes color and texture And just when you both start to get hungry And you both want to cry The 50 minutes are over.
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Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 11:08 AM UTC
PSYCHOTHERAPY SALAD
Memory is like a sunset                     for once it fades.... You only have recollections of it elegance but never again see it the same..
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
Memory Is Like A Sunset
Sick and cyclical memories linger, how unjust it seems In somber city streets, her father's name she screams When the fix is late and her body sodden and shaking Her childhood recollections waking, every joint aching Falling on tarmac, tearing stockings and fleshy knees Through the distant mist it's a saviour that she sees Marvin on a white steed, motorbike and leathers To get her straight he only requires her nethers What difference could it make to such a worn woman So little that her eyes glaze as he announces his comin' And she's immediately put to work after initial transaction All night shifts, ****** abstraction, customer satisfaction Returning 'home' to Marvin where the earnings are counted Giggling schoolgirl as playful stories of John's are recounted And Marvin's insatiable perversions are compounded ****** cocktails and deviancy, her psyche confounded The **** sleeps blissfully beside his new top girl And through ****** daze, she examines her world
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Hannah's Story Part II: On Meeting Marvin and Repressing Psychological Encumbrance
I think I've been a little lost lately. Maybe more than a little. This dull ache takes shape of your voice. It lulls and tugs repeating familiar soothings Past words of comfort now are readily sharpened As I close my eyes and attempt to drift Yet, I am tethered to the waking hours How I weep for neutral slumber Denial burns a fire deep into the hours As I evade past recollections of your touch Floating in bitter melancholy This eternal blending of the not easily forgotten Slowly I begin to peel off the layers My protective armor, now as brittle as parchment Easily sloughed off leaving the inevitable truth vulnerability seeps to the bone Then words that acted as knives Become my salve as I (defeated) apply Wrapping myself in the old familiarities Gently cursing you (me) for feeling so raw.
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
Raw
I sit on a droopy windowsill and gaze out at the stars above me in the stately sky of coal. I let the smoke fill me, pollute my corrupted lungs, ‘til it plugs me, completely consumes my sticky soul, and midnight sorrow blanket hugs the heart in my hole. I sit and I consider the sky with its million-and-one jewels that adorn the vast carpet of night and its one, lone cloud that slowly drools fat, drippy drops of deep fed'ral blues. The ashy, burnt taste is still in my throat; it lingers- a dull, cloying candy cane. The muted flavour chokes and jabs and pecks persistently, in the back of my brain and leaves a steel blue/gray trailing stain. Vague memories of fourth-grade English lessons take me with a deep sigh to forgotten thoughts of Roger McGough and unrequited love- dazed recollections of school poetry taught in obscure slate-blue classrooms, littered with blots. It seems feeling unreturned affection isn't quite as great as I’d thought after all. I must've been wrong, all those hazed years ago, when I yearned to feel unrequited love’s fall, convinced it would be a wondrous, dazzling ball Instead, I'm just ******* in the pale-ing sky that seems to be growing into lighter hues- the navy’s turned to electric, to powder, matching the sapphire in my soul of glue. I'm suppose I'm feeling somewhat, slightly blue. .
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
Blue.