Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Hacking the Temptation Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Saturday 11/07/2009 01:00:00 AM

Sometime later I confessed to having been there before. To knowing that it was hopeless. The ease by which a fraudulent grin escapes is just a symptom. Of a conspiracy greater than the sum of our skins.

I chased the wolf as far as I could. He was earnest in his endeavor. I questioned the pigs. About the houses they'd built. And the flaws in their conception. Offering them each a ride on my time machine. An opportunity to prepare for the future knowing what it would be.

Each one declined. Insisting the truth is not negotiable. The future more past than present. Fallen houses mean nothing when there's no one inside.

The stopwatch in her wrists counting. As he runs. The person under her skin pretending to know her. As he leans in for the kiss.

Everything is candy houses. And witches. With their warts to spread.

I wrote it down. The pass code. To enter her skin. But I've long since misplaced the paper upon which it was written.


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