Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Whims, kicks, bullshit

Frustration like trying to taste

Sweet fruit through a dental dam.

Seeing so much potential wrapped up

And bogged down in you

Is a fire under my ass to move

And live and breath and do.

It comes from love, my disappointment.

Comes from being fed escapist figment

Pulp by a role model.

Comes tearing out my lips in

Moments of inhibition

You won’t remember tomorrow.

Like fireflies blasting off my tongue,

Burning out in a fizzle against

Mausoleum ears.

Are there no words to make

You dance or have I not yet found a tune?

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