thinking killed the radio star
tell me what you think i guess
i wrote this while deleting old email messages, and reading their contents. i have alot of old messages from different people that brought up a bunch of memories and feelings so i of course had to write about it.
A Final Thought
The pieces of digital information
Hold no sign of the passing of days
But I imagine brushing the dust
From the tear-stained pages
Edges worn and frayed
There’s affection there
Anger and sorrow too
Not quite hate behind the words
That strike out in blind rage
To find the heart they chase
You’re fleeting in my mind
Nowadays with
the things that have passed
the days where I longed that maybe
I’d get to touch you again
But no more of the imagery
That carves lines in my brow
As I furrow and think how much I really felt
As those things drilled their way
Between the lobes of my brain
The checkmark lets me know
With the click of my mouse
Your words will be gone
A deleted note with no hardcopy
To stumble upon years from now
There’s no reason to live in the past
To live on words such as these
Memory should serve better
The thoughts are warmer there
But I still give these pained messages
a final thought
i wrote this while deleting old email messages, and reading their contents. i have alot of old messages from different people that brought up a bunch of memories and feelings so i of course had to write about it.
A Final Thought
The pieces of digital information
Hold no sign of the passing of days
But I imagine brushing the dust
From the tear-stained pages
Edges worn and frayed
There’s affection there
Anger and sorrow too
Not quite hate behind the words
That strike out in blind rage
To find the heart they chase
You’re fleeting in my mind
Nowadays with
the things that have passed
the days where I longed that maybe
I’d get to touch you again
But no more of the imagery
That carves lines in my brow
As I furrow and think how much I really felt
As those things drilled their way
Between the lobes of my brain
The checkmark lets me know
With the click of my mouse
Your words will be gone
A deleted note with no hardcopy
To stumble upon years from now
There’s no reason to live in the past
To live on words such as these
Memory should serve better
The thoughts are warmer there
But I still give these pained messages
a final thought