Marcus Romano
Stories (117/0)
Just over yonder...
Abstract jumble now the aftermath. Sitting around with my friend Jose. Kind of guy you could only stand for short bursts. So I called up a friend, liked Jose more than I did and owed me a smoke. Picking me up we sped off put put across the empty streets, till we hit a bump.
By Marcus Romano4 years ago in Poets
Diving Into See(a)
Hold your breath Till you are blue That is when I know Who is true It was a soft supple thing. It moved through my fingers, washed away the blisters that had come from its burning flame. There was only I to blame. There was no point in dwelling, Nothing more than a drape across the table, as if that might hide what it is. Or was it there simply to keep the objects atop it falling through its undefinable circumference. Always close, but never quiet there. Always some new it, thinking you had it. What was it? You could not even tell. Words, words, words. Poured out like so much filth that you were trying to get rid of. Throwing out thoughts instead of thinking them. Talking to your self brought about insanity. And a craving, a rumbling from the depths of your belly. It was hard. Sometimes drinking softened it up. Till vision was blurry, letting you make out all the dots on the line. Connecting them, by its end you found your self in the same place. It never moved, but was so far away. When you cried it seemed to go away. Disappear, eaten by your fears. Drowned in the water that poured out from between your fingers. Slow rise as it made its way to her ankles. Had to wade through it, with combat boots on. A little voice in your head pushing you forward. That was the only thing you could do. Direction was relative, movement was pointless.
By Marcus Romano4 years ago in Poets