trashed.

1 Comments

trashed.

in my head.
i cant seem to stop thiking of him.
im trying.
really, i am.
to not think of anything stupid.
like,really stupid.
STUPID?
ok studpid.

theres something in him.
that i cant.
i just cant.
give way for myself.
to have room.
to breathe,
breathe?
ok breathe ae....

see?
my poem doesnt rhyme.
no not at all.
not now that im pre-occupied.
by his face.
by his thoughts.
by typing fast now as usual.
thinking what to say next.
but words come out as if thier all just,
just trash.
love trash.
eow LOVE?
yes love.
infatuation love trash?
yes infatuation.
love.
trash.

pathetic...

la la la la la...

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

aesan’s Poems (10)

Title Comments
Title Comments
God-poem 1
B A C K 0
normalities 0
loneliness NOT 0
break. free. 0
bam bam. 0
huh? 3
flushed cheeks. 2
trashed. 1
insane assylum to dance 3