Categories > Original > Poetry

it's burning.

by nerds_assemble 2 reviews

kids can see this through. i found this at 1:23 am and i guess i wanted to share it or something. kudos, guys.

Category: Poetry - Rating: G - Genres: Humor - Published: 2014-07-07 - Updated: 2014-07-07 - 393 words

2Moving
a l l t h e "s m i r k s".


i'm liquid sunshine in a day.

i enjoy the jot of the passionate ghoul once in a while
[...he whispers to me in broken english but i know that fool speaks with a fake lisp...]

from the '80s, he sings offbeat measures of a pretty cool prescription called 'remember this' and i like that about him
the never changing smile gets old but i don't mind the fact his brown eyes are full out blown because that careful fool is still there in a half blind state
i like to call him poison
but he prefers edna
---almost all of my friends think that the wood panel on my wall is painfully average but it's nice because i can bring the square up to the board and i know that it'll never add up---

poison or goddamn edna calculates the distance it takes to disappear into the headlights from the highway and never gets it right...i don't know if he meant to anyway.

he's always crying about how used he feels and how little he means...
i mostly tell him to shove it because snl is on and i really just don't want to talk about how old the trees are and the whereabouts of our souls or whatever...

edna tries to explain how he feels like he'll explode or expire...he tries to tell me to imagine living soundlessly and i tell him my imagination isn't that big...

---i can't even sleep without ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in the changing guitars and slow beats....sometimes I hear sloppy chords and what sounds like a heart for a pick but most of the time it's organized and precise, which I don't get but I don't mind it either---

my friends tell me my friendships don't last too long, but they never tell me why. maybe it's got something to do with edna riding on my neck all the time but i really just want to help him...he's like a burning flower that you send off to be drowned in the river. he inspires too much of my work, then buys into my unintelligent spew of colors.

because a picture is really easy to sell, sound's hard to get and words are very easy to del-----01010101010101010101000010101101010100011000100101010



told ya the "time":fourinthemorning.com
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