 |
The burning elevator is coming back
down the spine and up the wrists
to the tips of my fingers
I can’t feel anything else
It’ll be her..
|
|
(He makes me into that queasy feeling
of I think I've had too much)
I prove to myself
that my life is a pose
stretching and stretching
toward som..
|
|
I wait and
he comes, calling
my name
both syllables
wrapped tight around his chipped teeth
I count his smiles
and she one of my own
And we danc..
|
|
He looked so f*****g sincere
it made me sicker than I was.
After all I’d drunk too much
bad vodka and too fast mind
but that’s how ..
|
|
Just go backward, just go.
Living fast and spilling
all over this place.
The life that couldn’t be touched.
Instant grace that came as i..
|
|
punching walls,
broken knuckles,
you became my skin,
singing you to sleep,
staying up, forever awake
and keeping you warm,
wishes to which ..
|
|
Dear John,
I'm standing on my
tiptoes trying to reach
your state of mind
and I'm seeing it quite
difficult, (without a map)
to find.
there ar..
|
|
the rage in limbs
rot
and move on
the rage
falls like a dance
all over itself.
and it all knows
and when it splits
they all fall down
and i..
|
|
But it was beautiful, that single moment I will see for the rest of my life. I hadn't thought of you all day, in the dirty city. In the beautiful dirt..
|
|
I stand on the edge
to look out on the sea
but I look for miles
and miles upon
and all I could see
is you, staring back at me.
I put my fingers ..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This