Wednesday, September 1, 2010

I keep writing poems about him

The leaves haven't changed colors yet, it's september-
you've changed i'm sure, more than just cleaning up your room.
added more names to your fuck list; written more songs about
your town and the one who got away, or ran.
and i keep trying to think nice things
but my heart aches and i know you know that feeling-
you've told me so.
and i keep writing poems about him
in spite
in spite
never in spite-----

No comments:

Post a Comment