Sunday, November 20, 2011


And all morning I have been crying
And shutting on off like a lamppost.
Sticky sandy eyes
And my wires falling out my front.
Haphazard sparks sporiticly twitch my insides
And mix me like an egg beater on the fritz.

Cold clean water is something to stare at when it falls out of taps
And the white of your bathroom tile matches my mood,
So I will lay here
Not soaking in the sun as I should.
Not being happy.
Wishing the day more grey
And my mood more compatible
Then a seesaw;
Then a no that is yes.

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