I drew you a picture
like Harold
with his purple crayon
I drew it all
to stay in the lines
and color the spaces
between my bones
my crayon is the source of all
this nonsense
and causes all the confusion
in the cracks in your teeth
turns out I was never okay
and I was wrong...
welcome to reality
I always knew you'd be there.
1 comment:
Maybe it is just because I admire his work and yours, but your poetry reminds me a bit of Billy Corgan's lyrics.
But then again, I'm a fool.
I do like your work a great deal, though.
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