Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Traffic Signals Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 7/14/2016 01:14:00 AM

dancing light. stubborn skin. i die a little more with every kiss. we are pieces. broken pictures. travellers on gravity's fickle whims. the colors bold. the saviors timid.

 hurried paradise. grateful wounds. touch the only antiseptic against the stiffening void.

 the miles multiply and choke us. the hours divide and conquer. the darkness bursts open and moments are expelled like bullets.

we don't go far. memory simply exaggerates the distance. it's time that spends us. like the pocket change we are. the maps have their creases. the paths have their rips. we run in every direction. disoriented by grief's vibrant prism. drowning in colors as the grey slowly wears off.

 the places take us. our open wounds and permanent scars. softly wear the rusted armor. we reason with edge. trembling with the logic of one too many intersections. we embrace the chaos as it welcomes our curious panic. still searching for the entrance to places that no longer exist.

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