Johnny (electricicecube) wrote in multitude,

  • Mood:
  • Music:


A meaningless gesture turned to gold.
The static crackle as the carpet passes under you,
swagger, a wave and a smile.
You can not be real.

A conscious effort to retain it all.
Your memory fades like so many pictures left in the sun,
A cashew for all to love, but I lease.
I'm the consequence of a coincidence from a joke.

You alloy with others but return to me.

Odd blessing caused by former use.
My telecast has run dry and you need answers.
I binge on your fun-sized problems.
Self-Imposed makes you a martyr.

The same gray in your eyes as the city we met in.
My vague repressions somehow consoling your past.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded