It's like I need to write, but I don't need to say anything.
Only I do. Just not right now. Maybe?
I wish I understood. I wish I could control it.
Maybe Dylan Thomas it (sorry Caitlin) and let alcohol be my muse; free my muse.
A drunken now, junken pow
Rock, paper, one-armed scissor
In divisor-able
Riding down the co-ax cable
Flickering images of Betty Grable
Mr. Cain wasn't Abel
Mr. Cain wasn't Abel
Not feeling very stable
But I can't push—
Want to be pushed
over
fall
move somewhere, anywhere
"Anger is a gift." Anger is a .gif
Anger is a rocking in the wind push me off a cliff
So I take it out on you
Though I wanted to be blue
I turn the screws, I do, it's true
I turn to you, I turn to blue
I turn green, the face of a drowning victim obscene
Contorted, twisted, I musta missed it
So sophistic
ated / ate it
I just fucking hate it
I'm overcome and underdone
I wonder when the fun will come
I fear the blinding of the sun
I fear the windings of your eyes that stun
Subsume, consume, nothing left to exhume from my tomb
The Fruit of My Doom under there (underwear? Thanks Naked Ladies so Bare)
I think I can recommend
an end.
That so needed to get out, no doubt.
Time to sleep... FOREVER!!!
