Throwing out my old clothes that don’t fit and probably never will again is absolutely killing me.
This is going to be hard. So I might not do it. I’ll just live with it. Forever. Until I finally die.
-
Or maybe for once in my life, I won’t give up on myself.
-
Who knows.
Purse String Noose
Shower coins of gold and silver
Down upon my aching head
So I can leave up yonder river
And lay down on an empty bed.
-
Lace my palm with fameless fortune,
Free me from these paper chains
So I can sing a sweet solo tune
Celebrating only gains.
-
Empty heart and empty pockets,
And some contagious apathy
Desire portraits be in lockets
And faces do not weigh on me.
-
Escaping a life where nothing is earned
In a silly little limousine
Is hypocricy where I am concered
But an unrelenting dream.
The average penguin, and me.
I think I’m going to replace my work uniform with a sandwichboard saying “NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT, JUST FAT AND DISPROPORTIONATE. PLEASE DON’T ASK, IT’S RUDE.”
Hollow chimes resonate us in a dimly lit room,
Beautiful nothingness.
You lie in silence as I
Splay across a very seperate seat.
My mind is throbbing
Pleasantly.
I am so relieved. If only I never spoke again
And never pondered another conversation
That leads to untimely death, uncertainly.
The void that grows between us
Induces comfortable independance
From you and even myself.
What is a walk in the brisk breeze
with a casual and forbidden cigarette?
Relapse?
Rather me than you.
Q
not to be an inconvenience but from one writer to another i was wondering if you could give me any feedback on my work so far =) and please follow so we can keep current in analyzing each others work, thank you.
A
With pleasure! :)
Q
Please write something, I'm missing your work xx.
Anonymous
A
Getting back on it.
