You have spoken.
Speak. And I shall listen.
Whenever you want. Wherever you want.
I am here.
And I shall do as you say, sire.
Words fall
Like shavings off a blunt pencil
Now turned sharp.
Loneliness beseeches.
I shall comfort you, says she.
You take to her and wine.
The chap in the red suit
sure ain't gonna visit your house tonight.
You recite poetry
to silence.
You have coffee
and cigarettes
at khan
And you smile.
For no reason
but for the knowledge of knowing
that you are there for yourself.
No (f-ing) matter what.
**
I listened to Elvis yesterday morning. After a long time.
Danced with him under the sun, in my aunt's garden.
He sang love songs to me, made the idea of a jailhouse more interesting, and made me keen to purchase blue suede shoes for next Christmas.
He left with the electricity.
And I am by myself, again.
Will give Cobain a call tomorrow.
*
4 comments:
If you can find Cobain, let me know. I have a few questions for him.
Elvis always sings me love songs and breaks my heart.
Speak.
The star lives on here.
Why are you so morose? Wait, I was that yesterday night.
Elvis doesn't break my heart, he seduces, goes to bed with me, and THEN breaks my heart.
Cobain shall be called tomorrow. He's on hold for the while.
Who else breaks your heart? Send him to me, let him try--this chick won't break, again.
well the kinda writing that people of my calibre can relate to as well.. the uniqueness in the proses flows with such nice movement and without the use of any heavy vocabulary...n i cant help but love it cuz been written by an absolute sweetheart!
love,
abhik
Thank you again abhik. U make me smile :)
Needed that, for a long time.
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