for now I’m a slither.
a under-minded, young, know nothing.
And you look at me,
with the stream and scream of a waterfall
defacing me and pummeling me
into sand, so you come up,
You die. The waterfall energizes itself
with all the force and power it carries,
to you, to kill you.
You believe it is yours to teach, to tell.
Alone, I think the rivers are in your eyes.
Tonight, your mouth tastes like a drunk bastard.
Tomorrow, I’ll forget and replace these thoughts
with something more like roses in your eyes
and honeysuckle in your lips.
I’m good at that.
I’m an easy fool.
By Lauren McManus
0 notes, April 24, 2012