Do you remember how we met?
Silhouetted by the lights...
You were drunk and tried to take a mental picture with your hands
I was thinking about that
And a bunch of other things
Stop looking at the floor...
I need to pour out this expansive dose of words.
I can't explain...
I need to be alone.
I know the timing isn't great
But these things, you just can't plan.
I just need a little time
So I can find myself again
'Cause I get buried underneath
All the things they think you are
And I'm too tired to pretend it doesn't hurt
To be left out
I had a pocket full of dreams
But I gave them all to you
Now I think I want them back
So can you tell me if I'm crazy or confused?
Don't ever change
The way you are
I've never loved anyone more.
I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
LION CUB...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi! Comments! Your FACE is a comment! Huh?