186,388 items / 1,471,850 view
my inner angst
held to the poetry
of her life
by my fucked
cosmic fate
what she
cooked
in the cauldron
of chaos
other ate
in her
holistic
unappealing
cooking
i had no faith
nurtured hopes
could not
cultivate taste
my pathos
on the agony
of my poem
i cut and paste
words
words
words
meaningless
total waste
seismic silence
oxymoron haste
Sunday, May 22, 2011
I Wait Endlessly Outside Her Gate
