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1 13%
7 88%
Voters: 8.
3 points. best of luck


A comparision could not be
cultivated from my lips;
though I may kiss you, to heal
that sore scar of yours,
I cannot force the coalition
between my head, fervent,
and my heart remorsed.
The leaves in autumn tend
to an artists hand emotion,
yet simultaneously rot dead
into the mudding ground;
and the hand that draws thinks
good of it, against the artists heart
that burns for a slice of romantic
coincedence of imagery.

I've not set aside a text for you -
rather, spontaneity will bat first.
When questioned I intend to not think,
but burst the abcess that lingers
on my tongue, and with cramped fingers
canvas to whatever pus or red spills,
hoping the infection wows or thrills.

Sometimes You Just Got to Look Good

When the world finally crumbles,
who will you be walking down sunset with?
will it be that woman from the bar,
you know the kind,
wearing her lips on her sleeve,
to much perfume and make up,
obvious shes trying to hard,
but then again maybe so are you.
Or will you be with that high school sweetheart,
you know the one,
you haven't seen in years,
her beauty might have faded,
and her baggy sweatpants and tennis shoes
might not be a turn on,
but shes still as much of a joy to talk to
as when you thought your world ended back in ninety-four.

I know where I'm going to be,
I'll be lying in my bed half naked with the cigarrettes dying,
and the lights still burning,
without enough energy,
to shut them off myself.
So I'll let the new girl I'm still getting used to,
dim them one at a time,
while I pick my acoustic and pretend I'm important.

But either way it goes,
we'll know we're doing something right,
when they look in our eyes and say,
"Slow dance with me,
and enjoy it til the dawn,
Because its the closest to love,
either one of us will ever be"
Red didn't keep me til the end.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!