deepundergroundpoetry.com

In a oner, while sitting in a bus station

I heard another song about another bird    
and I could have kicked myself for thinking of you    
it was so dreadfully cliche;    
and when I strolled past the bay today    
froth on the peaks brought back every rush    
you gave me with that grin.    
   
Stole a memory out of my notebook    
from when I was suffocating in my everydays    
for trying to breathe    
without your words to break the iron sky    
weighing on my neck    
and jotted down a dream that you were in    
only one of the many.    
   
And you know the strings on that tiny violin    
won't shut up about the goddamned bird.
Written by Jestalessa
Published | Edited 7th Oct 2013
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