Hit

When you start to write bad, sad stuff
But hold it in, back, no one wants that
And wait till someone else complains
The cue
You put down the empty can and hit
It, like an arrow or dart, hard and fast
I got that, and a frozen arm relaxes to
Let to fly
Like dotting the I with a vengeance it
Feels and honestly doesn’t as regret
Of a rubber band limb, stiff from what
If it didn’t

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s