Eyebald Im a ghost that people see through, And only dunces fear As Thunder and Lightning of an unexpressed passion in the atmosphere or here ripping through my soul, Cast in a one woman army is one seed in a hollow heart Too afraid to disturb The brave ones Yes I am Bitterness. I am Stormy Saturdays Scapegoat sending a smoke signal Towards anyone who knows Earth owns them not the prissy ones Pastel blues and pinks, Yelling at the tree for scraping their knee, then cutting it down, For the de-clawed cat to ponder And my thunderstorm within as inappropriate. Yes me thinks The incongruousness of truth Is Walking zombies Karma, The strobe lights on the teardrops of eyes outlined in black Glad I am me, Waah waah waah, the disowned part within a mothers chest. You can have your bouncing bundles of joy Ill take my thunder and lightning and all the beautiful rainstorms and puddles of teardrops Ive cried over inappropriate words Ive spoken. Proudly.
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 00:27:31 +0000
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