we sat in a canoe which had once been sunk
during the winter when i got a little to drunk.
chasing the murmurs of ghosts below the ice,
pushing a flat bottom out in the middle of night.

they all like to talk about my issues.
birds that weren't taught how to hibernate,
so over my scattered mind they flew
as i trecked out in search of a frozen crew.

she asked me why the lake was murky.
"my eyes were shut, and i couldn't find anyone.
the dark circles beneath them are similar to the ripples,
but ice is too still to tell of water's chipped, and chattered teeth.
february burys the hatchet that digs out the deceased."

condescending was the moon's gleam
little did it know, but little it made me seem,
an authority figure chastising my poor choices
capturing the view of a boy,
chasing his own voices.
Quote by ottoavist

i suppose there's a chance
i'm just a litte too shallow to consider
that maybe i've been a little more eager
each day to wake up and take a shower
brush my teeth and smile for the mirror
Last edited by freshtunes at Mar 17, 2009,
The only thing that annoyed me about this was the way the flow kept shifting and disrupting the read. I thought the content was strong but it could've been written better. I dunno, let me get back to you