Monday, December 03, 2007


I can't get you into care
without hitching your face
and tugging at your overlord.
Your reaction time
is measured by my hand
rolling off the table.
You can't have what's
never been made--you simply
get to a point in your life
where you don't tell people
a thing or two, you simply walk
away--knowing that time
moves too fast to fuck it
up with a scene which
only adds more heartache
to the progression of the
feeling of elation.


Blogger Diana said...

I LOVE this poem

12:07 PM  

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