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by Johnny CrimsonIf I had my way
I'd spell your name out
with rockets spread wide
across the night sky.
Then text you the words
"look up" at the perfect moment,
thus guaranteeing brownie points
in my favor, but not because
I want to win you over, I'm
just hoping you tell your
best friend what I did.
A bleeding postman is left to rot
under a linoleum
post-post office floor
while we break bottles and skateboard
down the halls of our high school
joking about the rumors of the postman ghost
Sobering up you said something to me that I'll
never forget,
"Write whatever the fuck you want dude, no one's really reading." 03/24/2009 Posted on 03/25/2009
Copyright © 2024 Johnny Crimson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 03/25/09 at 01:59 AM First of all, the first part of this piece really had me going "Who are you and what the hell did you do with Sean?". It was kind of sappy and romantic (not that you aren't...) and then came the ending and I knew it was you all along. |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 03/25/09 at 01:59 AM (ps. i wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself...) |
| Posted by Paul Marino on 03/26/09 at 11:03 PM great last line bc it's so true |
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