poem shaped like a ransom note by Indigo TempestaWhispers are little things The warm orange glow that hums "dance with me," and flickers. "bye, mean old angel," i snickered, and disappeared only to find myself floating smelling rancid in my concrete beer garden "goodnight," he said(twice), and not apple pies but me giving me a chill that's not a chill i feel it too and this is the most lucid i've ever been. i'll miss you in the morning then pick up the reciever and catch the remainder of last night in my ear how did i live so long without perfect whatever-you-said like you said, yes or did i say it? either way it's the same thing like the sun blazing in the sky, the sun at its zenith and you in the shadow it casts, drawing my curtains to protect my view how deep have the shards gone so far, none, i'd believe it too if i were you, that's how i know, you know. i played with you mid-winter and we got lost midtown. always illegal, heart-attack, shirtless, still i'm gonna miss you in the meantime and hope for another question i'd love to answer then for you "yesterday your rent was due" he said so i flicked him off and ran away 04/03/2002 Posted on 04/03/2002 Copyright © 2025 Indigo Tempesta
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Cole Miller on 10/28/03 at 02:34 AM "or did i say it, either way its the same thing." that line is what got me to leave a comment. just an amazing piece, the flow, is just, so true feeling. |
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