The days, they drain
like honey from the comb.
I hate the way my head hurts,
how my heart feels
so empty; I even walk slower.
The missing head of a mannequin,
snow in the summertime, how
I want it to be summertime. To
love and to be loved, to
sleep until the gnawing goes away.
Slow kisses on Sunday, words
to hang me over for days.
Company, that’s all I want,
and the intangible.
Author notes
bishop.
♥
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
i meant; i really (can't) make out what you look like in the pic.
-
i really make out what you look like in the pic, it's so bright, but the poem is great. love the title.
-
i hate economy of language. ♥
-
Lovely
Brilliant in my eyes, still. You know, that weird friend of Ms. Bishop's assessed my independent study and it was totally just like, "okay, you should do this, this...too many words..." But your words are perfect to me. And each one absolutely necessary♥
-
-
that's stupid, what was your grade? atleast you got to see yours! i wanted to know what she said about mine and i didnt even get to know. it sucked, maybe it cause i accidentally left earlier from her class, danmit! i hope i can see it next year. that really irks me, maaaan. oh yeah, thaaaank youuu. oh, and i turned this poem in for bishop, maybe you already noticed that. <333
-
-
i know this feeling.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
