as i exhale from lack of strength
and leaning back
become part of this chair,
my bed
i barely have the say
-lacking the steam to
fake the dream
oh shit...
from my mouth fall
the only conscious
soundings of my last hour
here.
i am in none of those places.
she was there like
the million shes everywhere
and alone i shrink again to
find my glass
here i lounge, smoking.
a beautifully wasted, neglected,
piece of ass.
the worst about me is my honesty
the words which fall from
mouth to waxed ears
dead fruits for all to see;
and trampled under swine
my pearls...and all my dancing girls.
i guess i long too strongly to be
famous
-so i tell you every truth,
and i suckle,
and you're gone.
i move on, i've said
too much
it faked my soul out,
bought me with the touch of a lover's hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment