soaked in rose water, feeling pain by the quarter like bubblegum I chew, minding things from last weeks june
i'm part of a play involving soliloquy, being crushed by a growing ball of epiphany, penetrate me through with fierce, i'm missing so many gears
burn my ugly flag and my voice, please give me that slushie of yours I need my brain to freeze, my serotonin will never ever increase, if someone throws my possesions away, i'll just trail off bare feet
people like me and you, might think they're screwed, who knows if we really see us through, but one statement is practically true
a lot of people rarely enjoy your lemon juice.
sweet and sour, more than i can deny, little hints of sugar to sweeten it all by day and night, what's the point though, what's to define, it helps to weep alone rather than listening to a colleagues 'whereby's
being showered under a gown of angelic, snow white carnations, spitting out blood and frustrations, like a hard rock hitting dynamite, shaking your head in despair while the inside of your head is feeling acidified
looking out in despair, tripping down faced the stairs, judged by the words of mortify, visualise, clarify, sacrifice, stupify, drown and die, oh boy, oh why, my oh my and soon enough we have july
spying melting clocks like the paintings from dali, sensing helping hands, oh lord, why try me, tolerating intolerance is the one thing i won't tolerate, so check the goddamn bill, don't dare say i can't try and misbehave
no one knows you, like you know me, why did you again offer the taste of bitterness that you lastly got from that little tree
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YOU ARE READING
Poe
PoetryJust some thoughts I have expressed through writing and occasionally also simply brainstorming to see what comes. Figuring out plots and stories I fantasise and try progressing them any way possible.
