make faces
like fists
try hard
not to kiss
or cry
there's no smile
in goodbye
make fists
like faces
in all the
wrong places
you didn't
mean that word
the last thing
i heard
are you
perpetually confused
by the fact that
green
may not be
blue
it's meaningless
this two-step
of melancholia
and whirlwind
self-aggression
i'm heaping this garbage upon you
burying you at the bottom
like so many wrinkled memories
it's nothing
Copyright 2005 doll on the rag
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/9853/67006 on Saturday November 22nd, 2008 09:22 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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