[?]
He tells me about his day
And I sing him songs about people dying and falling in love
[He likes those best.]
In the morning he is cracked and dry
And I flick his withered body off my sill
Thinking to myself about how much I
HATE
Spiders
When no one looks I draw his name in a heart on my wall.
[I love.]
Poetry by Inked.
Read 771 times
Written on 2005-08-09 at 18:20
Tags Love 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Arachnophobia
There is spider outside my window hanging from a star.He tells me about his day
And I sing him songs about people dying and falling in love
[He likes those best.]
In the morning he is cracked and dry
And I flick his withered body off my sill
Thinking to myself about how much I
HATE
Spiders
When no one looks I draw his name in a heart on my wall.
[I love.]
Poetry by Inked.
Read 771 times
Written on 2005-08-09 at 18:20
Tags Love 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
SlipThruCracks |
chasingtheday |
Texts |
by Inked. Latest textsThe Tulips All Have Died.Exit 129. Tire Fragments. Here You Are. Here I Am. Here We Were. 09-04-89 My favoritesThe Beech TreeTo the wind |
Increase font
Decrease