Poetry

This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.

  • Don’t say anything don’t say anything at all.

    Of course you wouldn’t and you won’t but I only say don’t because I wish you would.

    We’re such a mistake and I wish we weren’t but when I look at you all I see is

    I wish I could fix it for you

    Put a smile on your face

    Do something to make it better

    Anything to make it better

    Can you let me could you let me would you let me

    You wouldn’t. You won’t.

    I still want to see you happy with someone else because I know I can’t keep you and I want you to be happy

    You keep saying I’ll lose it but I really just don’t think you understand me

    At all.

    I wish I could be rid of this fire you set.

    I want to be over and done with it

    Return to lament about how alone and lonely I am

    In your heartbreak you will find comfort and understanding

    In mine I find only ridicule and pitiful looks

    You have no idea what this feels like

    And you have no idea how it feels knowing you’ll be gone someday

    And then I really will be all alone.

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  • There’s that feeling

    The feeling of being forgotten

    As I sit in the falling sun in my spot

    It’s my spot

    It’s my house so anywhere is my spot

    I’ll never be disappointed by toilet paper again

    Which means I was disappointed by it before

    Strange freedoms in being forgotten.

    Like a look at the paint on walls you once knew the colour of but forgot because you entered the room enough times that no matter the colour it didn’t occur to you

    My walls are blue.

    That blue that hoped in its life to be grey but it was blue instead.

    Like grey forgot to be grey and became blue by accident.

    I get dressed up every night just incase just incase someone pops by

    Or anyone at all

    Safe in my hall of silence

    But it isn’t the quiet tranquility of alone time

    It’s the sharp ringing silence of forever alone.

    If I was an adult I would come into the room and say

    Hey don’t sit on the arm of the couch it’ll get bent out of shape

    But I’m me so I’m sitting on the arm of the couch.

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  • The eleven doesn’t leave on time

    The inside of my jacket is the kind of grey that wants to be white

    The assembled pile of acorns could be a feast later or sooner

    The fourteen usually leaves on time

    There’s never an absolute because people always ruin absolutes.

    Lost couplets and cuff links.

    Empty signs and the feeling of the ground moving with the monsters that traverse the travelled.

    Come to me once just to see if it works.

    Come to me twice because I need you.

    Come to me more because you need me.

    Please need me.

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  • This is the song

    That catchy one

    That never ends

    Then begins again

    Yes, it goes on and on

    Before it’s long gone

    My friends

    Round and round they go

    Some people started singing it

    They are trapped in the round

    Not knowing what it was

    If there was a way to free you

    Now they’ll continue singing it forever

    I would

    Just because,

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  • Worried

    Turning

    Falling

    Wander

    Tepid

    Fawn

    Went

    Tumble

    Followed

    Loudly

    Over

    Lakes

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  • What are you reaching for, our there.

    Beyond what we see and know why would you need to be bigger?

    What are you reaching for and when can I know what it is and where it is?

    It shouldn’t really matter to me I’ll never have answers for the questions

    It’s just how I get the attention.

    I still woke up without you

    Even if I was with you

    I wonder if memories of dreams are real memories.

    I miss you.

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