PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So you want me to write things down

and you think that I have the time at

4:30 AM to speak without tongue

"Yes talk to me with your dented fingers

Tell me, tell me everything I've done that

has made you so sick at heart to where you

don't have a clue as to the difference between

yesterday and tomorrow"



Well tonight you have stuck the tip of

the knife clear through my throat

This time you have placed all of my instincts in

an old jar, whose umbilical cord is attached to

your arm

and your arm is punching at the radio trying to

find the right station that plays the right song



"If I never spoke at you again I think that would

be just fine

Maybe if I went further North or West I could just

get by without seeing those stupid liscense plates and

those meaningful street signs"



I don't have the time to rewind and I don't have

the energy for remission

But I wake up from sleep that never happens to

tell you that a week has gone by and I miss our

exchanging of sentences and I despise the torment of

knowing nothing about you again

There goes the hole you dug, to avalanche me in and I'd be more then estatic if you'd just once admit that you've left me there because you didn't have the guts to love me



And

I don't have the kindness to let you forget