i never did like the sound of my dad’s old guitar.
i didn’t like the feel of it either.
its stubborn strings stung my fingers.
they bled in frustration
as they failed to play the music i heard in my head.
i spent many hours playing this awful torture device of an instrument
and found that, after a few years, i wasn’t that terrible at guitar anymore.
i never did know how much i loved that guitar
until i saw my stepmom smash it on our driveway
before she sped off, giving my dad the finger.
what do you do when your world falls apart?
do you move on, or wallow, or make shitty art?
perhaps you would think of a way to depart
what do you do when your world falls apart?
-
what do you do when you can’t sleep at night?
when you wake up from terrors with nausea and fright?
i would think one would sit up and turn on a light
what do you do when you can’t sleep at night?
people often ask
if i am lonely.
silly creatures,
they don’t know
the difference between
being lonely and
plainly being alone.
leave all that you know
on the bench beside the road
you won’t need it now
take in sights and sounds
colors whirling round and round
faint whispers and shouts
zackoval Asked:
Absolutely in love with your writing! I get bored with my own, and yours is refreshing :)
thank you! i hope i’m still a halfway decent writer…
hello again, tumblr
so my most recent ex had the link to my old page, as did my other ex’s new girlfriend (?), hence the new URL. i’m going to start posting again, probably with less revealing content, in case someone finds this again. but anyway, YAY I’M BACK!
unfinished haiku
you make me feel like
your piece of trash, not your friend
give it all to me
if you hold back, you’ll be
swallowed into sea
i see you strolling down the road
it seems you’ve found a brand new girl
compared to me she is a toad
she makes my lips and fingers curl
you’re brave, yet wise in mind, and kind
my fickle-minded maybe-friend
my mind dwells on our legs entwined
but love for us came to an end
i leave the past to what it is
a fairytale gone past awry
my mind says “he is hers, she’s his”
my tears have had all june to dry
but one thing that is plain to see
is that you do still think of me
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