He's everything deep in his
little lists of dead friends riddled with check marks,
crumpled up and strewn across the floor.
Twisted up in a corner at the far end of the room
a tiny projector in his head showing him everything he doesn't have,
playing it straight on the back of his eyelids
as he's listening to the cieling fan spinning
roundandroundandwooshwooshwoosh and the rain
kissing the window how he always wished he could
a person, and he's hearing the wind whispering
forever promises to the trees just like he'd never done.
He blocks out everything and focuses
on his mantra he's uttering at the roof of the finite world
"please god, captain, beam me up."
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
Last edited by Ganoosh at Dec 13, 2009,
Quite nice. You use the word "little" a lot at the beginning.

You had a very clear image and mood formulated from the beginning and carried out beautifully. I'd nip through this but there's no real need; the overall piece is something impressive
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist

e-married to
& alaskan_ninja

Thank you all, I appreciate it.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
I thought this was probably your most economical piece yet. Every word, phrase and image had a purpose that tied in the central meaning behind the poem. It was very refreshing. Moreover, this seemed to possess a more finely-tuned style from you, it was much more confident writing.

If I were to give you suggestions, it would just be me nit-picking and I really don't want to do that.

Really, really good stuff.
here, My Dear, here it is