So friends, I've finally gotten off my ass and remembered what day it was...Poetry Day! I forget whether this is something that I've posted in the past. I have the strong suspicion that I haven't so, I hope you enjoy.
Girls
When she leaves,
she leaves a space,
a big or little airless place
that begs to be filled.
A part of the weekend that says,
What are you going to do now?
And you think if you fill it up,
youll survive.
So work and clean and call
and cook and write and drink
and read and sleep and shop
and say this is fine, this is fine.
You can do this.
Laugh and go out drinking
with your friends when its over.
Call everyone you know and say,
Whatever, shrug, clear your throat.
Its kind of like losing a dog.
Youll miss her
but maybe its better this way.
Her friends are still your friends
sometimes
and they watch you
because they send her messages
about how youre doing.
Sometimes they figure out now is their chance
and they tell you theyve always had it bad
for you.
Be careful of her friends.
So cut your hair
and re-learn to play guitar.
Stop wearing her socks and sell her CDs.
Buy new cologne and learn to masterbate
with your left hand.
Turn the pain into something you can use.
And when it feels like youre imploding,
like youre the only one
who wants to lie down in the street,
know that there will always be girls
who stream through this city
with their mouths open
trying to breathe
and waiting to be kissed.
Girls
When she leaves,
she leaves a space,
a big or little airless place
that begs to be filled.
A part of the weekend that says,
What are you going to do now?
And you think if you fill it up,
youll survive.
So work and clean and call
and cook and write and drink
and read and sleep and shop
and say this is fine, this is fine.
You can do this.
Laugh and go out drinking
with your friends when its over.
Call everyone you know and say,
Whatever, shrug, clear your throat.
Its kind of like losing a dog.
Youll miss her
but maybe its better this way.
Her friends are still your friends
sometimes
and they watch you
because they send her messages
about how youre doing.
Sometimes they figure out now is their chance
and they tell you theyve always had it bad
for you.
Be careful of her friends.
So cut your hair
and re-learn to play guitar.
Stop wearing her socks and sell her CDs.
Buy new cologne and learn to masterbate
with your left hand.
Turn the pain into something you can use.
And when it feels like youre imploding,
like youre the only one
who wants to lie down in the street,
know that there will always be girls
who stream through this city
with their mouths open
trying to breathe
and waiting to be kissed.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
smuffy:
I'm pretty sure that Buddha started poetry day. Or did he? I'm not sure but I remember seeing it in his journal first. Like a few months ago.
smuffy:
Thanks. I don't really feel like going. I love camping but I'm just not in the mood yet. But I think it'll be fine anyway!