A deadly last resort that never works. A waste of perfectly good air. A mark of shame that should not be seen. A sad tale that in not sad enough.
By samantha tan3 years ago in Poets
HOW do I even begin? To continue on this raging sea. To fly above the pack, making my own wind. Chasing my future self. Knowing I already had it.
I can do this, everything will be ok. You can move to Alaska or travel... The world is forever in motion. There will always be a taxi that waits for their next passenger.
Stop! You don’t want to go that way, not safe! Not safe 2000 years ago when dinosaurs ruled and roamed the lush perfect earth.
Come on say it, I told you so, didn’t I ? I saw all the ruffles before they were smoothed over. My vision went beyond this time.
The irony of it all is totally fabulous! Toxic waste melting in your throat. The last breath one takes before death. A lack of sympathy for stupidity.
I don’t play games... I run so fast you don’t even see a blur I don’t play games... I roam free doing and living as I please