“He walks out the door, she’s a modern girl”
Purple pages
and overcoats -
Smell of rain
- and burnt out smokes
emptiness
and stiff embrace
Fervently try to place
Hands instocks,
A cage.
Greying water,
Still,
lifeless -
Meaty steak kill
burning fire drift
- Silence
Rift.
Waiting for a kiss,
That will no longer quite fit
Cinderella, wish.
Resentment,
Loathing,
Incomprehension -
life bred by television
- Filling
Not winning,
hours
Smothering,
inside the pillow
Inside reality -
Dreaming
of Sanity – we shall never win.
I really do wish that you could give me everything I want.
No comments:
Post a Comment