so yeah, this is a poem.
it's bad and short..
don't throw your fire cat card at me for how terrible it is..
but I guess I'm posting them somewhere and I guess I'm stated here.
cool vanilla beans.
_______
My heart is a wind-up toy.
At birth it started and
eventually the twist of the handle
will have rewound completely.
My breathing will stop, and the
world will go on.
During my lifetime, my heart
will be accompanied by batteries.
No, not to continue the life of it. But to
regenerate the love it continues to offer.
You gave me the batteries to my heart.
But like all batteries, they eventually
need to be replaced.. you could not
provide another supply. I should've
known that. Your dead batteries will
stay in my wind-up heart until
you or someone else is willing to
give me new ones.
As for you, I was the batteries
I gave you, and I had more
of my self supply ready for when you
needed it. But, you only allowed
me to give you one, so I snuck myself in.
But you replaced the batteries, you replaced me..
Now my wind-up heart has sped up.
It will come to it's end faster than planned..
until my need of batteries it filled.
YOU ARE READING
one day i began to think
General FictionAlright, so this was formally known as lazy reads. It's no longer that. I do put short stories on here occasionally. OCCASIONALLY. But recently it's been a nice little public journal that really no one reads. What I publish is supposed to be someth...
