Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Processing the Void Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Friday 9/12/2014 12:01:00 AM


the road unfolds. like paper. creased and stubborn. like we all are.

the shapes come together. slowly. as we press the folds. working. always working to prove. we can change. transform.

successfully manage the depths of these shallows.

small discrepancies. spoil memory. quiet storms taste her. sips of when. the edge was further.

the traffic slows her. the foul pulse of living groans its lazy anthem. all spit and habit in a sweet cocktail of envy and bordeom..

colors churn. voices bend. life is a kaleidoscope of murders. a sharp geometry of moments. randomly devouring each other.

the distance measures us. thirsty mongrels. growling at the empty well.

move closer.

it's all huge until we stumble upon something bigger.

1 comments:
Unknown said...

I love how dark and real this is. I wrote something similar. Take a peek and let me know what you think:
http://endlesscavern.wordpress.com/2014/08/28/at-roads-end/




Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.