Words make me feel fulfilled occasionally.
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It’s in my ears And then it’s in the room Like headphones slipping out of the jack That shot of fear In the second and a half or so
By Violet P. Davies5 years ago in Poets
Rain, rain, go away I’m here but for a short while To bask in the sun Sugar works, sweet drinks I work more or less in the
I took a quick step over the delta To take a closer look at the rocks The waves barely brushed them And my feet were dry
As my personal witching hour approaches My early 4:48 psychosis My breath comes thick Not with memory exactly But more a reflexive dread
Trickle down, sweet January dew Into the cracks that the window hides Unlocking her unique tapestries At once ancient blueprints and brand new
Stay Smile back at me again When the corner of your mouth turns up It's something quite different than before And I want to know more
Looks like it's time for me to roast you Sorry bro, you know I'm supposed to And there's nothing to it You do it to yourself
I don't have a penny Because they're out of circulation And if I threw a nickel It would hurt But I still really wonder
I should I should be I should be listening This is important This is something I—like This is something I—want This is good
I found a lover in your laundry pile I couldn't tell if they were dirty or clean So I chucked them back in And did a little thinking
No reason, no rhyme, no reason, no rhyme, I feel I’ve been floating for quite some time Let all be assured that I’m never too sad
Alert, but with heavy eyelids The briefest of wars begins Pith under the fingernails Don’t let any juice escape Take it all off in one piece