#sanity
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Old sort of stream-of-consciousness poetry from 2009. Enjoy 🤗 ___ Lost in West Coast Dreams the same four blank wallsCrack of Dawn phone calls,McDonald’s French Friesspirited drunken highsand drinking gamesaccompanied bythe nicknames,that beg to breakHer silence. curiously cold coffee andbountiful brownie breakfast,smoking in the kitchenmid-afternoonto the tuneof Eternity againstspit-shined countertops,happiness soughtbought at the corner shop.
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The fearIs that I’ll be like himChasing shadowsA reality of my ownBut no others. That a webwork of wordsWill become my prison.That shadows will whisperMy faults, my successesMy pain, my speaking plain My end of daysAnd yours.I will speak riddlesAnd you will belittleThe coming apocalypse. And I will speakTo the pigeons in the parkAnd think
Poetry With Hart 