whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
So, yeah. This is me. This is me trying to post a poem, however shitty and/or short, EVERY DAY IN APRIL. This will be a challenge. I haven't really written since A left. Which is lame. He ruined my life, he doesn't get to take my poetry too, goddamnit.
I used to write all the time, on notes in class, scraps of paper at work. My hard drive was riddled with the bloody stuff. Actually, although I blame him, it was probably the anti-depressants. I don't think I've really written since them, even though I've been off for several years now. Never made that connexion before.
I have a bag full of scraps of poems that I either only half started or never finished, so I'll probably be working on those. But this is just a start. Jesusfuck was it hard.
rusty, rusty, a
coming to life:
a sliver of not-dark
in the darkness
you only broke me
because I let you
a steady disintegration
firm, sure, inexorable
when I was nothing
you stopped.
and left.
If you defriend me after this, I applaud you.
I used to write all the time, on notes in class, scraps of paper at work. My hard drive was riddled with the bloody stuff. Actually, although I blame him, it was probably the anti-depressants. I don't think I've really written since them, even though I've been off for several years now. Never made that connexion before.
I have a bag full of scraps of poems that I either only half started or never finished, so I'll probably be working on those. But this is just a start. Jesusfuck was it hard.
rusty, rusty, a
coming to life:
a sliver of not-dark
in the darkness
you only broke me
because I let you
a steady disintegration
firm, sure, inexorable
when I was nothing
you stopped.
and left.
If you defriend me after this, I applaud you.