joi, 20 februarie 2014

Gloomy laziness

this bed smells like stale dreams
and I just can't bear to look at food
and my hands sting with menthol
and my brother sings along with me
and the windows are gray
and my feet don't want to walk
and my coffee tastes like ashes
and I woke up wanting to stay
and I only care for distant people
and my thighs are as blue as my jeans
and my George has grown so tall
and my spine can sigh in relief
and my toes look for comfort
and I'd rather not peek outside
and I'm mad at myself for being mad
and the pillows are squirming with fluff
and I'm such a child
and I should clean my room
and I've forgotten how to properly feel
and all the plants are dead
and I'm in lust with a phantasm
and this place is warm
and I'm afraid to make plans
and this movie is making me itchy
and I could drink another coffee
and this is where the page ends

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