andcuriouser
Active Member
I'm gonna guess this is from 2001-ish. I never dated things back then. That's a bad habit.
Snow
I wish I'd held onto everything I had;
saved up my little brown dollars so i could kiss them goodbye.
I'm begging into telephones:
"Please please please.
I don't want to be alone just yet.
I can't make it without just yet.
Please please please."
I hunker down on the pavement,
warm from the rushing subway beneath.
It's twenty minutes until the car pulls up,
twenty seconds to exchange and say goodbye.
My voice on the phone is the last thing you need:
"Pick me up at Adelaide."
And later on I'm dripping from my nose.
It's cherry juice squeezed from white snow.
It's love and shared thought bubbles between us,
as I twitch and moan on the couch
(the one with the pillows that my sister made;
the same pillows I took from my bag when I got here).
I can't stop crawling in my skin.
The taste of thirst comes first.
The scent of sex come next.
You hold your head in your hands and tell me:
"Boy, you're fucked up."
Snow
I wish I'd held onto everything I had;
saved up my little brown dollars so i could kiss them goodbye.
I'm begging into telephones:
"Please please please.
I don't want to be alone just yet.
I can't make it without just yet.
Please please please."
I hunker down on the pavement,
warm from the rushing subway beneath.
It's twenty minutes until the car pulls up,
twenty seconds to exchange and say goodbye.
My voice on the phone is the last thing you need:
"Pick me up at Adelaide."
And later on I'm dripping from my nose.
It's cherry juice squeezed from white snow.
It's love and shared thought bubbles between us,
as I twitch and moan on the couch
(the one with the pillows that my sister made;
the same pillows I took from my bag when I got here).
I can't stop crawling in my skin.
The taste of thirst comes first.
The scent of sex come next.
You hold your head in your hands and tell me:
"Boy, you're fucked up."
