give
breathe
See
me
under
enough
so enough
already
it's breaking my heart
my glow
is your bust
i know it so don't tamper with my individual
wrapping
it's not
something for you to unravel
so don't pull on my strings
it's not for you to say
it's not for you to see
i'm keeping myself,
my mind
a secret, so you see,
it can't be
for the love of me
don't let it be
such a bitter thing
and don't let me see...
you're playing with fire
by the pulse
of my wrists
you're playing with fire
by the pulse
of my neck
you're playing with your own dick
get a grip on it
pull it back in
pull the strings back up
get a grip on it
and you'll see
you can be
alone
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I wish I still had the passion to write poetry. Reading yours makes me feel the loss of it all. I guess I've just gotten to cynical for it to come out the way I want...
ReplyDeleteYou know, I've felt the same way for such a long time, but then it's all come rushing back to me recently. Let it out in a cynical fashion and it will soon transform into something more grand. You'll see. Try it.
ReplyDeleteI might do just that, but it'd be awhile before I'd put any of it online.
ReplyDelete