they said
"You're the worst thing to happen to my writing."
I didn't understand what they spoke of, until
I put my pen to paper only to trace your name
to see how your last and my first look like the best poetry i could write.
because it rings in my ears like it should have when I was still in middle school.
all that comes out is a stream of consciousness
and I'm in a broken boat without a paddle
floating past lover's metaphors and eloquent verbal melodies
I just wave at the banks of syntax
as i flow past anything decent to perform.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment