My first ever LJ cut!
Well, I guess it's time. It has come to my attention that you don't all enjoy reading my poetry, so now you can conveniently skip over it if you'd like. Ok, challenge, guess who the 1st one is about. John, if you know, don't tell. Oh, and the last one is really good, if I do say so myself, which I do.
You betrayed me, you bitch
I grew up with you, and now that I’ve met you anew, you’ve changed
Couldn’t you be the same? Stay static?
You were comfort, sense, and sanity.
I’m sure you understand my predicament.
But as I delve beneath the surface, I sense you’re the same.
You’ve changed, but you’re you.
Thank you.
Because you’ve taught me how to combat change.
No, not combat, nor even confront.
But understand.
You’ve changed, but you’re you.
So I can change, but be me.
Thank you.
My pressure’s building rapidly
Too quickly
Like always.
Exploding, dangerously, carelessly.
A volcano
Pele’s gona blow.
But then I’m spent
Only to build up again, silently
Longingly awaiting your pressure
Wait for it,
‘cus you could time your clock
to Pele’s magma
then Pele’s lava
then Pele’s coma.
Then back again.
Fatty ass snowflakes falling from the sky, visual representations of the laughter inherent in warm winter weather.
The chuckles obscure vision but let my spirit see, sing.
Incites a grin, from ear to ear, apparently indicative of my insanity.
Because the passersby queer at me in my joyous tranquility, adopting my smile for at
least a little while.
And in this beautiful state I can’t help but be oblivious to anything malicious, because the snow is too warm-hearted for anything so cold.
You betrayed me, you bitch
I grew up with you, and now that I’ve met you anew, you’ve changed
Couldn’t you be the same? Stay static?
You were comfort, sense, and sanity.
I’m sure you understand my predicament.
But as I delve beneath the surface, I sense you’re the same.
You’ve changed, but you’re you.
Thank you.
Because you’ve taught me how to combat change.
No, not combat, nor even confront.
But understand.
You’ve changed, but you’re you.
So I can change, but be me.
Thank you.
My pressure’s building rapidly
Too quickly
Like always.
Exploding, dangerously, carelessly.
A volcano
Pele’s gona blow.
But then I’m spent
Only to build up again, silently
Longingly awaiting your pressure
Wait for it,
‘cus you could time your clock
to Pele’s magma
then Pele’s lava
then Pele’s coma.
Then back again.
Fatty ass snowflakes falling from the sky, visual representations of the laughter inherent in warm winter weather.
The chuckles obscure vision but let my spirit see, sing.
Incites a grin, from ear to ear, apparently indicative of my insanity.
Because the passersby queer at me in my joyous tranquility, adopting my smile for at
least a little while.
And in this beautiful state I can’t help but be oblivious to anything malicious, because the snow is too warm-hearted for anything so cold.