About cutting, suicide, emotronics I use to dig in my youth. I definatly cleared it up.
Scrolling down the page I see, You and your beautiful face...
Mocking me electronically. Black and white, palm to lower lip, Blowing me a curious unintended kiss. I can't see the brown in your eyes... Or the rock and roll they showed so bright.
You look better than you did when I last saw you, But what else is new? The question is rhetorical...you were always kind of oblivious. Praising you is getting me nowhere, But what else is there to do? You are perfect, genuine, and over par. The lights dim slightly, making it just that dark. I'll sing you a song and you won't like it, Because the beauty in my voice has turned to s**t, To pain, when is it going away? Maybe today? I'm sorry the boy says, And the girl says nothin'. She can NOT talk to him. Can't be seen, Within ten feet. Now I know how ghosts feel Lonely, unable to contact the ones they love and loved.
How many days... How many months... How many years??? Till' I turn you into the same being as you turned me: Ghostie.
Very much love your style. Your words are uncanny and very familiar ..you effectively detail each moment so that I am no longer a voyeur , very admirable work . If you were an art piece you would be an open composition, one subject, body small in relation to the background and painting as a whole, but with eyes looking straight , the ones where in the dark, they haunt
love the mingling of beauty and grit in your writings~ here especially the pain curls itself into the literary shell of cracks and plump seeds within the language which expresses the condition of the subject matter with precision~
Very much love your style. Your words are uncanny and very familiar ..you effectively detail each moment so that I am no longer a voyeur , very admirable work . If you were an art piece you would be an open composition, one subject, body small in relation to the background and painting as a whole, but with eyes looking straight , the ones where in the dark, they haunt
Title got my attention. The story wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Sometime better to lose interest and become a ghost. A excellent poem.
Coyote
Hello my name is Zack. I have been writing since I could properly hold the pen. Then computers came around so I type up some work on this site from time to time. Thank you for checking out my conte.. more..