"sneezes" poems
Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.
Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.
Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!
Little Birds are sleeping
All among the pins,
Where the loser wins:
Where, I say, he sneezes
When and how he pleases -
So the Tale begins.
Little Birds are writing
Interesting books,
To be read by cooks:
Read, I say, not roasted -
Letterpress, when toasted,
Loses its good looks.
Little Birds are playing
Bagpipes on the shore,
Where the tourists snore:
"Thanks!" they cry. "'Tis thrilling!
Take, oh take this shilling!
Let us have no more!"
Little Birds are bathing
Crocodiles in cream,
Like a happy dream:
Like, but not so lasting -
Crocodiles, when fasting,
Are not all they seem!
Little Birds are choking
Baronets with bun,
Taught to fire a gun:
Taught, I say, to splinter
Salmon in the winter -
Merely for the fun.
Little Birds are hiding
Crimes in carpet-bags,
Blessed by happy stags:
Blessed, I say, though beaten -
Since our friends are eaten
When the memory flags.
Little Birds are tasting
Gratitude and gold,
Pale with sudden cold:
Pale, I say, and wrinkled -
When the bells have tinkled,
And the Tale is told.
14k
Hailstorms with big winds, trees writhing in breezes
Coyotes howling in moonlight, dogs when they sneezes
Alloys and carved toys, stone gargoyles with wings
These are a few of my favorite things.
Skunk smells carried gently on nocturnal breezes
Sly double entendres and tickley teases
Beautiful salmon colored sunsets that make my jaw drop
Smell of pine 'n cedar in my sauna and wood shop!
Dolphins and doggies and toddlers and mooses
Saunas and cold plunges and honking V-flying gooses
Small mutts and storytellers and Pixar cartoons
Crazy call of the Maine dark of night loons
These are some of my nurturing tunes!
Volcanoes with lava and magma all oozing
Cross country skiing just gliding and cruising
Receiving massages unwinding and unbruising
I love my collections of adhesives and strings
These are a few of my favorite things!
So when the wasps sting
When the bored people whine
Wen I'm feeling dispirited and sad
I just think of a few of my favorite things
And I don't feel…so…bad!
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
Friend one:
Reads "Rotten Tomatoes"
Always early, parks in a handicap zone
Friend two:
quietly disapproves
knows Friend one walked her dog a mile earlier
Friend one:
moves her car
digs out two waters, chocolate
and back pillow
buys peace and tickets
Friend two:
catches sneeze with *** of tissue
aggravated exchange:
about walking too fast ahead.
“Are you not my friend? Walk with me!”
Buys popcorn
Friend one:
wants seats on the end
for handy bathroom runs
Friend two:
does not want “the blow by blow” of reasons
just not in rafters
sneezes, and says so
trips
spills popcorn on the stairs
Friend one:
Sets up “camp”
Friend two:
holds crap
Friend one:
Settles in, builds her "nest"
opens water bottles
arranges back pillow
half-a-million napkins
“Want your jacket?”
Friend two:
holds popcorn, helps Friend one with jacket
Friend one:
pushes button for her seat back
seat sounds like a ****
Friend two:
says so, both laugh like fools
Friend two sneezes loudly, rubs her eyes
loses self in movie
Friend one:
starts to snore quietly
Friend two:
nudges her
Friend one:
(Who is never really snoozing)
runs out to restroom
misses best part of movie
Comes back,
“What happened?”
What happened?”
Friend two:
aggravated
hushes her
takes allergy pill
Friend one:
weeping at the end, watches all the credits
starts her review
apologizing to the kids of theater-cleaning-crew
popcorn, napkins, tissues everywhere
Friend two:
Sneezes yet again
Friend one:
Knows all the stars--
of friendship
being how she is one :)
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
Windex mice squeak through the windows,
biting newspaper as it scrapes across.
Soap from a new age fills the kitchen,
sheeps' fat long forgotten,
the sod-house of Laura Ingalls Wilder left behind
with its crumbling Lincoln logs,
the ceiling that drops dirt crumbs like a gritty pastry.
Our world is shiny,
so blinding that even the cough of newsprint makes it brighter.
A bottle sneezes across the counter, spurts those
bubbles of ammonia, gathers with the
rivers and tides that surge with ethanol,
it bursts the air with a neon smell and erases
everything that has come before.
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:01 AM UTC
I’ve ordered and carried my steaming cup of brown to my table to ignore the falling snow beyond the walls of this box.
My clothes are wrong, my hair as well.
I just cut it, and everyone knows which mistakes I made.
A man sneezes and the song changes.
Better not make eye contact with anyone; I am not in their league, here at the muddy spoon cafe.
Chewing so loudly in the de-creeping silence,
these safe, polite, quiet ones.
I am the creep here. I am different.
My thighs are tense.
Hunching over the paper, arms tense and clutching a gnarled red pen--
It’s probably self-indulgent to even sign my name.
Someone’s shuffling cards.
I almost forgot.
The awkwardness I’m filled with breathes out a short sigh when I realize
--my part’s over.
“Do you know Sanskrit? Do you know what that is?”
A woman asks another.
I want to choke on the pretension
The tenseness, I adjust my leg to relieve pressure on my ankle.
Why can’t I just enjoy the snow? That’s all I really came here for-- well, and the coffee.
I hear a woman cough with an unaffected tenor, which would convey her gender to an interested party but to me carries no intonation.
I wonder if the girl I recognize from class thinks I’m following her.
I came here for coffee, sweetheart!
Is it yet too hot for me to dare a drink?
I can see it, the steam, rising out of the corner of my eye.
I haven’t looked away from my hand in twenty minutes.
“Who am I?” they may be asking myself for me.
I don’t have a clue.
They can think about that problem
for themselves
while they’re lonely
in their forties.
I’m lonely now and I hope not to live
that long.
Here, we pretend not to see each other’s faces
in the gleaming presence of steaming cups.
“I don’t want to wonder about that.”
I realize there’s nothing I even deem worth writing down.
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 4:13 AM UTC
Strong spring winds and summer breezes
Only add strength to my sneezes
I cannot breathe...I'm on my kneezes
I'm only good when outside freezes
I need a kleenex now
I cannot breathe with pollen flying
I swear to god that I'm not lying
My eyes run so...I feel like crying
My chest hurts bad...I think I'm dying
I need some meds and how
I wish I lived inside a bubble
Then I'd have no breathing trouble
Can someone build one on the double?
My throat is dry and full of rubble
I need cough mixture now
I dream of snow instead of summer
My hayfever makes life a ******
I need something so I feel number
The problem is that I feel dumber
Please knock this out...kapow
Hayfever is my one affliction
My eyes and throat are full of friction
I take my meds, they're my addiction
My throat is suffering from constriction
Somebody help me ...now!!!
Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 8:00 PM UTC
Don't be scared to sneeze in MATH105
Blow these numbers off the page, so I can finally have an excuse to
Blow off some time with you
I want to memorize what that sneeze sounds like, unique to the individual
Each sound varies upon sneezers voice,
allergies, voice box, larynx, even personality
If that's all true, I bet even you, sneeze as **** as a mother ******
The only thing that I want more wet and slimey than the inside of your elbow,
Is the way we make love
"Oh baby, that's it!
Sneeze for me! Sneeze harder!
Sneezed like you've never sneezed
for a man before and then sneeze
harder!"
Don't EVER hold a sneeze back!
You're not only killing brain cells
But killing me as well!
I want to see what kind of tornados
you can throw when a dust storm
gets at you
What demons are you hiding,
not letting Christ expel
Don't be ashamed!
Are you scared that just you're sneeze
Will create tsunami waves of attention
If so! I'm buying a front row ticket wearing
nothing but arm floaties and a rain coat
If you get sick, kiss me with your breathe
And well get over this cold- feet together
I want to know your sneeze so when we
Are cooking dinner, you can be half way through inhale
And I'll have a tissue and the words
"Bless you"
Already trotting outta my mouth
I want to be the blessed one
To be within hearing distance
Be able to bless you back
See you come outta your shell for .237 seconds
There to catch the science of your anatomy jumping off the cliff of your nose
I want to be in the bookstore,
Reading super hero graphic novels
And hear you in your boredom two floors up at Starbucks, sneeze,
And be able to say
"YES! THATS MY MAN!!"
You hear that one Peter Parker?
Try to dodge your spidey-sense around that one!
That's a sneeze that'd make the phone booth go inside Clark Kent!
We'll have two kids, named
Gesundheit and Salud
The cat's name will be Ah-Choo
Unless you're allergic to cats
Then scratch the kids, we'll have
A cat zoo! So I can hear the symphony
Of your nostrils on the daily
If you think this poem is gross
Wait tell you see the way I sneeze
When I'm thinking of you
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
about pictures of bears without any fur, and they look horrendously terrifying. Like ****** space gorillas you see in poorly done sci-fi movies. Do you think panda bears are still the cutest bear without any fur?
I wonder if dragons get lung cancer from all the smoking they do. I'd rather think about a hairless panda bear breathing fire--it's jaws sinking into the underbelly of a mortally wounded dragon and as it starts munching on the dragon pancreas, it accidentally sneezes causing it's lunch to incinerate to ashes.
That's probably why dragons are extinct. Hairless panda bears donned armor, riding horses; questing to eat dragon pancreas.
They also thought amor prevented lung cancer. It was the middle ages, people or animals didn't have modern technology to explain diseases, let alone where babies came from. Except for dragons, and look at how their species turned out. **** I'm throwing my phone in the toilet right now.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
1.
there once was a poem
who climbed into a paper boat
and sailed on to the moon
not a moment too soon
for they came to lock the sun away!
2.
best not mount this whippy one
rock-a-billy wild carriage
ride me to the city's end
don't drive me round the bend
we can always try a bold bovary-move!
3.
look into the fire and sing a song
about the lonely, tarrying sea
oh sailor, make it sweet
then I'll put it up on tweet
and nary mind; make your children's lullaby.
4.
I gives ya posies bright and gay
come sit by me...closer, dear
she smells, then sneezes
oh, he didn't know how to please her
her floral allergies packed him off for good.
5.
there was a lazy man from Shadder
who said 'twas too cold to empty his bladder
so, he sent it a-walkies
off alone to the loo
well, it just drove his wife madder!
S T, 30 June 2013
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
And with that she
began nursing her child again, singing a sort of
lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a vio
lent shake at the end of every line: -- --
"Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes;
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases."CHORUS
(in which the cook and the baby joined): -- -- "Wow! wow! wow!"While the Duchess sang the second verse of
the song, she kept tossing the baby violently up
and down, and the poor little thing howled so,
that Alice could hardly hear the words: -- --
"I speak severely to my boy,
I beat him when he sneezes;
For he can thoroughly enjoy
The pepper when he pleases!" CHORUS"Wow! wow! wow!"
2.5k
ME: I’ve called you all here today to ask you something.
BROTHER 1: [looking sideways at the door]
BROTHER 2: Hmm.
MOM: [smiling widely in that way that says she knows]
DAD: [smiling widely in that way that says he doesn’t]
ME: To be frank, I don’t think you all like each other very much. Is that true?
MOM: [smile gets tighter, hand reaches towards phone]
DAD: No, it’s not. [scratching side of head nervously]
BROTHER 2: Hmm.
BROTHER 1: You all bore me.
ME: We know we do.
MOM: [typing furiously]
[silence punctuated by dog licking his leg]
ME: So, now what?
BROTHER 1: [rolling eyes slowly and obviously] What do you mean, now what?
ME: Well, I mean where do we go from here?
MOM: We don’t. We just stay here or nothing at all.
BROTHER 2: Hmm.
DAD: What else can we do? How do we know doing anything at all would be better?
ME: I am tired of writing poems in my head about us. We have to do something.
[silence punctuated by dog coughing]
BROTHER 1: **** you and your poems. Do you want to hang out?
MOM: I love you all but I can’t stand any of you.
BROTHER 2: Can we be done now?
ME: We’ll never be done.
ALL: We’ll never be done.
[dog sneezes]
Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 10:16 PM UTC
Prologue: People have their own sneezes and that is surely fine, but you need these top-notch instructions for a faultless sneeze. I will instruct you on the fine art of how to make everyone in the room feel badly for not saying "Bless you!" You will find the results of your new sneeze to be utterly awesome. People will enjoy hearing you sneeze and wonder how you perfected such a basic human function. You will love your "after" sneeze and wonder how you could ever live with your "before" sneeze. Be an "after" and stay an "after!"
STEP 1: Start by breathing heavily. Gasp for air, inhale deeply. Don't make your peers think you are merely snorfling. Don't make them think you're some kind of schmuck. You want to sneeze like royalty. Take in that breath and inhale proudly.
STEP 2: Rise a little, maybe even stand up, to open up the lungs.
STEP 3: Let it loose, make it loud and sneeze with gusto. Make your sneeze noticeable to otherwise oblivious teachers who only notice wrong answers and very obvious text messaging during class time. Make your sneeze a TRUE distraction.
STEP 4 : Before anyone says a thing, bless yourself as if no one is there, as if you were in your room all alone int he dark of the shadows where the sound of the bed creaking scares you half to death. Where the thing under your bed says means things to you while you try to drift off to sleep--where loneliness and death meet and...sorry. I got carried away. To recap step four, talk to yourself. Refer to suggestions below*.
STEP 5: If no one speaks, begin to cry. Moan and wail. Wonder aloud why no one takes the moment to wish you well in your time of need.
IN CONCLUSION: If none of this works to gain you attention, the blow me down and call me Sally. It's time to choose new classmates. By golly, they must be the most putrid thing any baby spit up if they don't' stop for a second and wish you a very bless-ed life from here on out.
*SUGGESTIONS BELOW:
"Achoo! Excuse me, bless me."
"Hachoooo! Gesundheit."
"Achew! Bless my soul."
Warning: Sneezes have been known to spread disease. Sneeze responsibly!
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
I lay and wait to sail the seas of infinity
Black fabric catching nebulous breezes
As an ancient god of mythology sneezes
The wooden ship creeks never stealthy
But noisy as hell seeing the cosmic swells
Of eternity’s well
My skin burns with the razor whips
Of solar ray that phase through
Time and space
Razing all darkness in its’ way
My vision once darkened by the void
Now explodes with spatial wonder
My skin is shredded by the fury
Of burning nebulous gasses
Particles of space dust envelope me
Incinerating every cell of me
I burn in orange, brown, purple and blue hues
Spiraling vapors consume the ship to
No howls of pain echo in the vacuum
There is no struggle
My hands hold tightly to the sword of my youth
I wear my rigamortis with pride as I slide
Up and into the gates of Valhalla
A white and fluffy faced man stares at me
Laughing half heartedly
And says
Hey you got the wrong gate
Valhalla loads down the ways at station eight
This is the Judaic station
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
It was my first time meeting A’s grandmother-
I brought her flowers
Laid out on A’s den floor I begun writing this poem
While A watches anime-
English subbed
We are supposed to be studying-
we did for a while but
E has been on the same page for half an hour
As C sits atop a table-
making bird noises from above
We move to the dining room
because A’s grandmother made noodles and egg rolls
E is ******* up his noodles like a vacuum
I don't blame him- they taste like Jesus
C sneezes so loud it makes everyone jump
I look around the table, thinking of the past year
And all the friends i've made
Love, Platonic love, is beautiful
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
fell from her home
Skies of ohio
stumbled from a cloud
Grew her wings on the way down
hellboy in the back pew
cigarettes, blue dress shoes
closed her bible, "I refuse"
She said, "To be a mans property"
Honeybee
Honeybee
honeybee spread your wings
Honeybee
Honeybee
neither bird nor angel,
she flys free.
"I'll take the skills to cook and clean
our sneezes will still sound the same
I'll vist on holidays
but don't you ******* bless me"
"I'll be Domestic for myself
clean home and the best of health
Foster bees
a book to read.
But the bible ain't for me."
Honeybee
honeybee
Somewhere in the inbetween
honeybee
Honeybee,
apartment on deering st
she met me
at a speakeasy
"if you want me you better find me
Through the bookshelves I'll be waiting"
I turn the pages
Find her wedding ring
kept under the mattress,
not even god as a witness.
Doctor in ireland, she told me
escape in comic books
while he's away.
"Before we start, you have to know
One day I'll leave forever
Let's live a life we won't forget
In the meantime, together."
"I live with no one to respond to.
I live without boundary.
My ride or die resides in ireland
I'd like to love you while he waits for me."
Honeybee
honeybee
I've never tasted honey so sweet
Honeybee
Honeybee
Honeybee, Come lay with me
A few kisses later
cross legged in an office chair
sipping warm tea
I wake
green eyes watching me sleep
It's these moments
in between
Honeybee
Honeybee
were those mornings just a dream?
Honey bee
Honey bee
you leave
Remember me
in the old and green
honeybee
you were always free
guiness jogs my memory
The little things
inbetween
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
He shyly looks at her.
Everything seemed to quieten to this lovely silence;
a stillness which is pierced by
his
own
steady and sure heartbeat.
By the way her nose twitches slightly and her red lips flutters a little,
she is just about to sneeze.
Ha. Adorable lady.
Bless you?
Bless those eyes that inexplicably managed to see through the
gossamer veils of good and the bad and
above all,
me.
Bless those crimson -No, it is actually a meld of strawberry and raspberry stains. But I won't tell her that just yet.- cheeks.
Bless that lovely soul that you have, the kind that lights up your eyes and peek-a-boos in your smile.
Sweet-heart, you could never be scary anyway.
& And &
bless that smile which can flicker one on my lips.
She sneezes, blissfully oblivious to all these little words that flit around her.
"Bless you, sweets."
He whispers, like
he
always,
always
does.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
spores! spores!
fluttering demon spawn everywhere!
fluffy white bleached miniscule chimney sweep umbrellas
cascading down like so many newly born spiders
on their silky web shoots
coming over the hill and roof to attack
traversing miles to my nose
which weeps
in sneezes so magnificent
they'd frighten off an elephant
I tell you, for every reproductive winged plant seedling I will counter with fifteen crumpled white tissues
evil evil pollen, the curse, the allergy, which trapped me in the castle in my youth, on many a lovely spring day
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Thank you God for my little dog
Thank Lord for not being bored
Thank you Mary for fighting off the wicked fairies.
Thank you Jesus....save me from the sneezes
Thank you me for peeing on a tree.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
Eyes that flash the soul of civilization
And warm the heart in observation.
Love that whispers with a gentle touch
And surrounds with hugs that seem so much.
Cry Beloved!
Water that caresses with a thousand tongues
Sunshine that coos all the birds’ songs
Teachers and vets, pronouns and clowns
Croissants, marmalade, coffee and new lawns.
Cry Beloved!
Breezes and sneezes, walks by the shore
Seashells that capture all the sea’s roar
Powdery sand and laconic lagoons
Daydreams and naps in the afternoons
Cry Beloved!
Smiles, museums, carriages in the park
Salads with friends and chocolates too dark
Rowing among lily pads and turtles and frogs
Hiking and crossing the streams on new logs.
Cry Beloved!
Flowers and bees buzzing in the sun
Hummingbirds hovering, dogs on the run
Children running, giggles and wiggles
Caring, learning, reading and snuggles
Cry Beloved!
Snowy mountains, valleys green
Faith proclaimed, faith unseen
Wonder and ponder, awe and reverence
Invitations from God to join in the dance
Cry beloved!
Hands held together in prayer and in love
Eyes raised to heaven on the wings of a dove
Caring so deep, affection so real
Feel the love and start to heal
Cry My Beloved!
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 8:40 PM UTC
i wonder if her toes crack
if she sneezes three times
if i dipped my fingers into all that hate would they
come out black
dripping ink.
you know, i tried to remember
last year and how that felt.
i tried to remember and i’m drawing a blank.
a splattering of starlight
a shattering of salt on her lips and
the way she spoke to him.
i’m not sure if this hurts you.
the way it’s always about a girl.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 3:49 PM UTC
To know or not to know that is the question. I mean; I already know, I took it once. Yet that once was back before the continuous onset of diarrhea (which could have been caused by the accidental switch up of my stir fry or the unending pastries I filled myself with), before the sniffles and the sneezes (caused by the cold wearing a too thin jacket to the gym), before the exhaustion (wack sleep schedule). I knew before all of that. And even then, that know was a rapid test (but still a test) which could’ve been wrong. So, should I? Should I take it again? Or should I go about my day, and attend dance practice with none the wiser?
…still there? Hey, where’s she gone?
Oh, she’s at dance practice.
Feb 9, 2022
Feb 9, 2022 at 10:48 AM UTC
Nails the length of javelins click on countertop
with the speed of a coked-up woodpecker
as this goddess of the night with bullets
of caked foundation sweating from her forehead
awaits her fifth free Long Island of the night.
Safe to say, she's a little high maintenance,
like all treasured centerpieces
of a local museum deserve to be.
She is your generation's Mona Lisa, trust.
Her sneezes will be dissected for coding.
Like the rust on buried Babylonian armor,
she lives sandwiched between myth and reality.
A Frankenstein of queer iconography,
door-knocker earrings designed by Adrian.
Stilts for heels clack on blinking dancefloor,
balancing a hermaphroditic echo
that charges through hieroglyphic binaries
with a four-on-the-floor precision.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
she sneezesas the breezes
carry the pollen to her nostrils
she is small
and somewhat frail
but when she sneezes
she creates more than breezes
she makes a gale
and the noise is like thunder
as her lungs do the rumba
all in order to expell
the pollen from her being
her eyes cross
and fixate
on an ephemeral state
in order to calibrate
the legnth of the ah
in her ah-choo
sometimes it is
large and elongated
sometimes small delicate statacco
and then again it may be somewhere
in between the two
and after she sneezes and gales
and wheezes...she seems stunned
by the fuss and disharmony
she created by nasal cacophony
and in her daze, the taps
her nose and says quite clearly
good old faithful....
.....thar she blows
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 8:04 AM UTC
Every moment, we are wasting away-
Our poor, dejected ambitions
Float empty
Atop a sea of partially sane intentions
Kept by a god
With a pension for deceit.
Tick tock,
Crazy never comes on time-
And three sneezes mean an unsuspected
Guest. Dilapidated hours
Wear thin
As they desperately reach to cover
The long, convoluted skeleton
Of youth.
Remnants of the past prevail,
Buried deep beneath
Cedar floors and $50 graveyard slots,
In all it's half attainable glory,
Strewn out across
A marble coffin,
Like heavy dice
Waiting to tumble down
Into reality.
The old bell tower,
Cracks and screeches
Her unrequited laments
To the indifferent sky-
Every evening at 5:01.
With each hollow ring,
Age seeps through our pores,
Mixing in and diluting our dreams,
Sinking down into the deepest crevice of our
Contorted being. Tick
Tock, time can only dance if there's a rhythm:
The beating of our hearts
Sounds on, vibrating off
The hollow cavity
Which should hold something
Living. Nothing's real here,
As our insignificant lives
Race each other down the dim and slippery
Hallway that is life.
Until sooner or later,
One by one,
We all lose our footing
And fall down the rabbits hole
To meet something like
Death- the only evidence that we were ever
Alive.
Hour hands reach out from their miniature sphere:
A cyclical world full of half past ten
And white empty spaces between
Vacant numbers,
Grasping our warm
Pulsing bodies,
And pulling us closer
Towards something almost like The End-
Tick tock,
Russian Roulette is only lucky
Until it's over.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:27 AM UTC