Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Willing Refugees Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Tuesday 5/16/2006 10:58:00 PM

Fulsome vandalism on display. Forgetful as these unions are. It still snows brightly in the tight-fisted gutters between these mountains.

When I look up and the sky is gone. Only an endless white dress in its place. I want to wear it, but I know it doesn't fit.

There goes my attitude again. Setting the timers on those bombs just shy of my escape. Blossoming like an angry flower. Spitting people pieces everywhere. I should've been crippled so many times, but instead, I just listen a little closer.

There's always an indication. But the siren isn't why we run. It's only after the pain sets in that we begin to make our way toward the antiseptic.

But I don't want to kill the disease. I want to nurture it.

Without it there'd be nothing left.

I remember the nothing. I see it in every goosebump as I contemplate where I can find to hide from it next.

2 comments:
Anonymous said...

why are u an alcholic...u are very talanted and you are just letting you rlife diminish away...well i personally think that you should get a grip and stop being so pathetic...well i am a teenager and if i see this just think how many other people in the world see this in you as well...
i think that u are greedy and u dont appreciate life...there are people around the world that dont have the same chance at life that u do and u are just wasting yours...you should be ashamed of yourself...
u drone!!!

Anonymous said...

you suck




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