its takes 6 hours
and then I fall asleep on the couch
wake with dreams of
women flying through the air
a fog surounds the living room
like ink
permanantly marks
my personality.
A tiny blemish
remarks to remember
nights I stared
at cars that streamed down the road.
its a fucked cry
and i swear its her face
that keeps me on earth.
i dont know if i try
like a pop song that wont
leave her head, it repeats
and it screams, it tears
at her brains.

...it takes 6 hours
to fall asleep on the couch
while i think of of what i dont have
back home

03/17/2002

Author's Note: revised feb 2010

Posted on 03/17/2002
Copyright © 2024 Travis G Finborg