2/4/19 1209AM
i feel we could gel
on music and feelings alone
they say
as i lose space in my brain
for trivial knowledge
and guilt
you seem different from
other men i’ve met on here
and i need something different
i say what it is
i’m just lonely
and prophetic
and baby, you could be so mean to me
and i’d probably like it
and my mind wraps itself tightly
readies the gurney
calls for donations of blood
and constricts until
i get a little buzz
and never hear from them again
- Author: Big Swifty (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: February 4th, 2019 00:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Comments1
Strange what the web can bring out in folk.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.