lora wrote:i've been reading eliot every night before bed for the past eight or nine days, the waste land sort of helps me to sleep, and i don't really get that. that's something about me for the sake of contribution.
thirdhour wrote:i'm sitting in my house, and it's raining outside
my boyfriend broke a promise to me, and this means i'll have to say goodbye, though i don't really want to.
happening fish wrote:You may search very hard for me;
push and pull and tear up the grass,
as though your roots are there, too,
sleeping away amidst the june bugs,
waiting to wake with the seasons
and eat them raw
as my heart is raw
and eats away at me
like the days devour the seasons.
I wish to die amongst the grass
become one with the bugs;
they would welcome me to.
And they would welcome you, too,
since your heart is just as raw
and just as open to the bugs
as it is to me.
So join me in the grass,
and we will waste away the seasons
the repetitive seasons.
Let me know if you want to,
and you may join me in my bed of grass
where we can kiss our mouths raw
and I can hold you to me
with our audience of bugs
and we will sleep away the seasons
just you and me
and the others too.
The weather will rub our skin raw
and so will the churlish grass
the secretive grass.
You may eat my insides raw
and act like it has nothing to do
with me
and hide what’s left of me in the grass.
I will preach to the bugs.
I will skin the seasons raw.
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