|
|
|
-DC-
You, my best side, walked out.
I kicked the golden-yellow flowers aside and followed you.
"Hey Ed Mcmahon-
This isn't funny."
The trees and the rocks look ostentatious.
Hide in the eyrie with the birds.
The chirping, the songs; play a part in the carefree facade.
(I bought you a yellow jacket. I hope your eyes will sting as much as mine now.)
They said my feelings on this are just : washed out.
"When it rains, it pours. You can't hold on."
Cumulous clouds will shower on me, because that's the way I am.
My only vice is I'm not living life.
(You don't like me anyway)
You turned around and said
"I don't know what made you so overcast, but you are."
I know, and I'm in on it.
It was always a black cloud: we just never saw it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Comments
despondent
cynic
sarcasm at it's worst.
 Tak-Jak · Tue Sep 05, 2006 @ 09:26pm · 3 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Some of it's real. Some of it's not. I hate the title. The end.
"Summer in the city, I get lonely lonely lonely..." - Regina Spektor
-Electricity-
Remember the night I slept in
only your black T-shirt, and you
whispered I was beautiful
while I pretended to be sleeping?
Remember the time you made me so nervous
I bit my lip so hard
I tasted blood? You used to
tease me and ask if I had done it
again, like you detected that
faint rust taste in my mouth.
Or in the beginning, when you
played with my sister's lucky bracelet
and I whispered, "It must have worked,
here you are."
You thought I was cute,
embarrassed, with my cheeks all red.
Remember summer, and
sitting on my front porch like
old lovebirds, holding onto
one another like you were ready
to go off to war ("I'd steal you away
before they could ever
put a gun in your hands" wink and
the way you breathed that
you didn't want to leave me?
Remember denting the hood
of my mother's car as we laid down
together for the first time,
quiet as we absorbed our new hopes.
I remember the first time you
kissed me, and I was shocked by
how simple it was to be wanted,
to lose myself in the damp softness
you offered with no production.
"Darlin'", let's go back to your house,
and sit barefoot on that roof again:
this time I'll rub the right wires
together, we'll really get things cooking.
Tak-Jak · Wed Aug 02, 2006 @ 07:31pm · 5 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
|
New here so this is me saying Hiya all!
but I have nothing to rant about
I wont torture everyone on my first day
and first post. okay b-bye now. ninja
Tak-Jak · Sun Jul 16, 2006 @ 10:20pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
