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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
oii another one

Submitted: May 04, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 04, 2010



In the morning

When I would use the word try

Like a sleepy baby

Like about to get high

Like the soft release of a tired moist hand

Like my hair stuck to your face and neck in strands

Dna in watery panic waves

Like if you stayed

It wouldn’t be this way

Pushing your mouth

Trying to squeeze words out

That truthfully ill probably never cheat you

Out of

You know

You know

You know

You know everything.

You fit under my skin

You strike those different


Your fingers flying off your arms

To see her covers underneath

The sky the sky the sky

Its you when it moves

And it moves to me

Play me off strong

That kind of melody

That was always so lost in that

You in me

Poor poor little girl crying outside

Waiting for warms winds and her baby to

Dry dry dry

All out of my face

It strains to define that blurry motion

I try to make

To get back.

Chasing the time it took

The time that takes

It rips it out and takes its place

And im sorry you have to see near me

When my heads full of you watching me

In a dream

Like a beautiful diamond cove

Deep into the fog swamp

Where nobody goes

Youll sink youll sink right through

And suffocate where I hold you

Right out of the road

Little baby

Right smack into my home

Little lady

Shes a plastic machine in a greenhouse

My love my love my love

Is an old red couch

Looking perfect in that light

Like a picture frame

You’ve had your whole life

The subtle inclusion

Cries oh jesus Christ

Its so different so different

And its never got right

I took all the pieces

Of that window

And I put them together

So I could break through again

And if it was dumb I know

That im not the only one

Whose ever done anything

I couldn’t even keep a pretty boy amazed

I know I know I know

Its way too late

And theres nothing to even save

But I still keep my side of the deal

And I hold it like my bones

And I pretend that this poems real




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