they don't think about talking to us because we're different
so show them just how extremely different we are
we get drunk for the taste of the liquor on our lips
and stoned for the sight of the smoke in the lights of a car
a word passes through them like a bullet through a spiderweb
they explode to the point of no repair
we absorb the words like water in a sponge
we know it's true, so why despair?
they worry so much about their image
but give no thought to their minds
they think we're the emotionless ones
when they're the ones who've closed the blinds
YOU ARE READING
A Little Thing Called Death
Poésiei won't explain many of these. they are for you to work out and they'll probably mean something different to everyone. (i own these poems) ((FINISHED.))
