| (no subject) |
[Aug. 28th, 2006|10:55 pm] |
I'm scared about moving
forward.
my life and the
days ahead of me
seem to be unreal.
I've no direction.
Half the stories and
songs that I want to write
are shit before I even
start. The other half seem
to start well but end in shit.
NO talent |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 28th, 2006|10:51 pm] |
Reformed
mind
and body sweat
too many weeks in new york |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 12th, 2006|05:51 pm] |
I can't write
like I used to.
But when I wrote
like I used to
I couldn't write
the way I did
before. |
|
|
| Tilt |
[Jul. 29th, 2006|03:19 pm] |
Weary, selfless, tiring,
the managable ineptness
of a thirty-five year old
Italian man.
tilt
A ten year old becomes
tangled in his father's pride.
It soaks into his pores, consuming
every remnant of the obnoxious
eight year old that I remember.
I fear he too has been infected. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 26th, 2006|12:50 am] |
|
Oh lordy me. Oh lordy. |
|
|
| Bits and pieces |
[Jun. 5th, 2006|02:44 am] |
That was it
the bartender
had had
enough,
He grabbed
our hero(?)
by the arms or
legs or hair or
something similar
and dragged him to the
alley and it's there
our hero(>)
slept.
He awoke at roughly
four a clock
and tried to
open the door,
he found it to be
quite locked. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 5th, 2006|02:36 am] |
go sweet,
gentle
bugger.
break my
shadowed
retreat.
Fuck off.
Big lips.
I love you. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 30th, 2006|11:12 pm] |
|
Below my stainless steel feet the world is cringing. I step around the dog shit and onto the sidewalk. The faces blanket my worry. There are so many of them. I laugh as I ponder the masturbation of each person I pass. I try to spot the weird ones. The kinky people. I imagine they're easier to find than I would have thought. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 30th, 2006|11:03 pm] |
Let it go
smoking
smirking
smiling
rough drafts
of break-ups
left over
from different
girls that
just sort
stopped talking
to me
years ago.
It's funny
how I love you,
drunk on the
rolly-coaster
with my hair
flying in
the wind.
But it's not
the wind.
It's just the
world standing
still.
Well,I refuse it. |
|
|
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walls_for_feet's journal
