makes sense

Your past-times consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love that little game you had
Called crying lightning
And how you like to aggravate the
Ice-cream man on rainy afternoons…

~*~

thought i had it

waged forever

for a single day

of conversation

.

keeping you at

arm’s length for

another chance

of redemption

.

but i can’t make

up my mind now

i want only that

shade of green

.

and you won’t

share your hues

for the sake of

being seventeen

.

i’ll be unused

synecdoches

an example of

your whole part

.

but you’re just too

pretty to describe

i’ll read a dictionary

in the bleakest dark

.

twenty-six and

maybe then, still

is this sensibility

too immature?

.

do you want a

lifetime together

or something

more than pure?

.

but i guess

this is forever

even though

it’s not the best

.

everything is just

too confusing

and now you’re the

only one left.

~*~

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Stood and puff your chest out like you never lost a war
And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw…

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