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By wistful Date: 2001 Oct 04 Comment on this Work [[2001.10.04.01.57.16916]] |
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Run away? Okay. Run where? Anywhere. Come, escape with me Free. . . Reality is overrated. Numb the pain with casual distractions Sex works. Force fed fun. Constant exuberance, noise, chatter People, parties, frenetic energy Midnight poetry. Sleep late, reprobate Run. But no distance, no speed No noise nor diversion No activity or passivity Can help me Escape me. And you, my love, As pleasant and pleasurable As your touch, your smell, your laugh can be. That we only play at "we" Makes this a hollow victory. And that light is painfully bright On the morning after. Cracking that thin veneer of love I paint on simple laughter. |