a poem
October 30th 2009 00:03
all pens are overflowing,
i thought the ink would dribble down the sides of the table,
slowly and deliberately,
creeping across the floor
seeping into the floorboards
years later you would come back,
and find that everything had turned black.
but you came home today,
the octopus was a gelatinous heap
and you smiled a bit,
“you were always messy”
i thought the ink would dribble down the sides of the table,
slowly and deliberately,
creeping across the floor
seeping into the floorboards
years later you would come back,
and find that everything had turned black.
but you came home today,
the octopus was a gelatinous heap
and you smiled a bit,
“you were always messy”
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