All the ways to make it longer,
split my ends ,I'll call her daughter.
And when she speaks, she speaks of slaughter.

Rain on lies the size of symbols,
were calling it quits, a quiet act.

As thunder courses through my veins,
your worries always sound the same.
I'd touch god for one fucked endeavor,
scissors fell where must they may.
Shards and slivers beneath our feet, not long enough for my reach.
Ages raged the end of summer, poolside wonders,and
boyshort thieves.

I am the illusive frost in the sunlight,
allow me to PM your appliances.
For the longer I work here in the basement,
the more I can study your girl up the stairs...

11/28/2008

Author's Note: we rock your socks off. you know it.

Posted on 11/29/2008
Copyright © 2024 Nanette Bellman