Monday, 18 October 2010


Maybe you can owe me? maybe i'm too tired
who'd of thought you'd tow me so far past the line
you're growing little cancers in petri dishes all across the town
you don't even know it yet.
You're throwing little tantrums in synchronized fashion;
two people goading each others veins full of happiness
i'll sift out the sediment of your regret tomorrow
a hot cup of coffee and a soft voice sweetly lying.
Next to you, its nothing, its empty, its broken.

No comments:

Post a Comment