I lived through 3 AM;
it's a sense of reinforcement
rather than accomplishment
Walking around barefoot at 3:15,
smelling like the nicotine
you placed between my lips.
Take it away:
A command, not a wish,
serves you honesty
instead of your favorite dish.
We're all on replay, turning off lights
for a better look at our mistakes.
Letting us be ourselves
might have been your best regret.
Do you still pick your scabs
like you do your friends?
Need is a sin for all to embrace,
but when you're under house arrest,
chained by rehearsed lines,
Every day's a secret you can't afford
to be seen in public with.
Zodiac signs don't bring us together, baby,
it's the spirits haunting the back of our throats.
Sugarcoating is my new obsession,
everyone seems to benefit;
if you'd *stop correcting yourself*
When you're no longer a mutual friend,
we turn platonic,
feasting off what remains of us,
when we could just send letters
once in a lifetime.
Author notes
Authors Name: evilstillreigns.
A contest entry
- [no title yet] by whiterabbit..
335 points, ended February 1, 2008, 22 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Great job. I particularly enjoyed the lines 'Do you still pick your -scabs- like you do your friends?' and 'it's the spirits haunting the back of our throats.'. Brilliant! Much success in the contest.
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I really like this and the way that you wrote it. I love how strong the emotions are in this and how I can really feel them. There's a lot of sadness here. Wonderful job and thanks for entering.
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=)
Thanks!
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