A Poem on PeopleA Poem On PeopleA Poem on People
The room is softly humming, humming, mumbling monotonously without cause or closure. A pause bodes well for the up comings, and a woman delicately arches her back in her chair. I see a glimpse of sorrow in her outer layer and a sort of wear on her skin. Her feet are those of a young girl's, who yield to invasive individuals. I sense the snap, sack, crack of paper calming, and the vibrations of utensils slowly writing. Writing what? My mind wanders to seascapes and penniless occasions to faces and pelting rain on tent cases,
Thursday Night ShowA Marshall stack pushes Sound into a microphone that’s Two inches awayThursday Night Show
And I’m a Sucker for earnest looking girls that I’m Too awkward to talk to so I’ll Write dumb poetry on Graph paper that I Won’t want to show my friends
And the nicotine hits my bloodstream And the World becomes clearer
I’m Killing myself slowly Passive aggressive- Ly destroying myself before Anyone else gets the chance
I’m singing out loud at the Stop of my lungs and Off key and Drowned out it’s Liberating in a way that
Tears of LifeTears of LifeTears of Life
Basil leaves curve their edges heavenward while the tips of 4,000 or more oak leaves swet in the mechanical motion of before rain minutes. A film of darkness coats the sky, like oil coats the ocean, sufficating all life though still, every living creature is accounted for when the only drops that fall are from memories, like the diamond-like patterns formed in a geode, hidden from the naked eye. Bye beneath the naked eye lies magic, lies light, and wonder and stars and sparkles. A magnitude of intuition and love. Yo
nostalgia
I Love it
--
And I dig your photography, you've obviously got an eye on your face.
--
McKenzie
would you like to play skate against hate with me?
mindy said i can do whatever i want.
if you don't want to i'm probably going to improvise with a guitar, my cello bow, and my drum machine.
otherwise, let me know. i'd like to play some nice loud improvisational stuff...if you know what i mean.
--
1-900-U-S-A N-A-I-L-S OH BABY!
--
Who has more fun than people?
--
Miniature madness
peers through its delusional
vision of existence
and carresses
the rush of flame
as it strikes another
from the guest list
--
we accept the love we think we deserve
--
bgasdbsdbdaadzhdah
--
Join ~Murdoc-Whores
tubgirl almost drowned in a bathtub too
only she liked it
why is it three in the morning and why am i so not tired
cause the computer screen is giving me cancer
and i'm just joking about it now, but one day, you'll see
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