mort mot juste

julho 29, 2010

girl with half an eye

scribbling here and there
lame death hour, wrong continent
my uncle said
baby girl, this right here is my war and you ain't seen it
nothing did i say, i thought though, i thought sir
honorable mister, grey-headed icon
this is my desert and my soldier hung, a leafless tree
was tired from all the waves keep getting worse in my eyes, lids, throat
broken teeth scratch my tongue, i beg them not to notice, they notice but keep sensible
and they offer water and their own beds
they think i can rest it off
drink it off
fuck it off
this mess
not premeditated
howling by day, by late night
melting ears, shaving all the hair
you couldn't possibly
get into my head if you wanted to
i'm done is it doom is it love misplaced it is weeds growing to seed
she's a lucky pup i hear do i hear it backwards
girl with half an eye taste invisibility
try, fail, get up
girl with half an eye
put on a fancy dress
you're about to die

maria 6:06 PM 0 vociferando estavam

ao rés da fala