Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Plain Specimens Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Sunday 8/24/2008 01:19:00 AM

The autumn of her lips falling. Mediocre suicides. Stabbing. Heels and nail polish. Long holidays. Talking to no one. In deadly whispers. Of how many of me there are. Now that i've learned how. To calculate forever.

Divide by zero. Ignore the logic. Of self-proclaimed good men. Try on the dress. Be pretty for only a moment. Any longer doesn't suit her. The broken ladders. The empty stairwells. That want to climb, but can't go any higher.

The bite of oblivion in her lips. The Arithmetic of having been tasted. Lose me. The time line is corrupted. Lie to me. About when. Or if it ever mattered.

The only real drug is us. The only true addiction is if.

Turn on the siren. I'm a criminal. Find me. Still trying to arrange. These stepping stones to heaven.

I could tell the world. Convince it that I'm somewhere else.. Because I am. But why push it waway when we've come so close.

To proving. This suicide is not so selfish.

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