Sunday 12/30/2007 02:05:00 AM

The whisper an accomplice to so many crimes. Broken briars like useless fingering trying to grab. Bits of skin still uncooked after we've left the on the heat too long.


The dishrag in your grin makes it impossible to see. Look like I still have eyes long after I've let the vultures have my sight. Seeing isn't enough.

Burnt. Bits of caramel thoughts lost to the heart. THe sugar turned to black. Like the rush of lies to the forefront of my heart. It stops for a second to draw pictures no one will ever see.

The tragedy of humanity is that it needs us. People pretending to care.

Open lips on a kiss that isn't coming.

We're nothing. And it's terrible. Because everyone wnats to be something. We're nothing. And it feels right. What else is there for us to be?

Dark stairways travelled down in moments of weakness. Flags flown high enough that any god can see we don't know what we want.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.