the same old song
ringing through the same old flame,
rhyming with words that stick
to the roof of my mouth
like your name, your games
the fun wears away
when i realize how much
i don't know,
like the smell of your breath
in the morning-
roses,
rancor,
whose book is this,
anyways?
2 comments:
?
(i know, i know, lame comment.)
no, of course it's you (i doubt any of those were that vague). gap year from being a senior, basically, with all of it that sucks and is awesome, but only technical since you're experiencing it through us, but also, not. you know?
i'm glad you liked it.
Post a Comment