Pill & the Lay,
by Rewired,
3/26/04,
6:38 AM.
You are
the touch of the top
of a cold bottle atop my hot
and sweating forehead.
You are the soft touch of skin;
the hit off the morning cigarette.
You are the uncontrollable, unprecendented laughter,
the artistic madness when a piece draws itself,
the point in a story where words just flow,
the poem that demands to be written,
the cool summer night's wind blowing across my neck,
making the shirt on my back wave like the sea.
You are the soft voice that whispers comfortably,
`it'll be okay, it'll all be all right,
and if it isn't, than it doesn't matter,
no one will give a shit in fifty years anyway'.
And you're close enough I can almost touch you
are you shying away or am I just afraid?
Afraid to be naked, afraid to be open,
afraid to be innocent and vibrant
like I felt with the pill and the lay?
by Rewired,
3/26/04,
6:38 AM.
You are
the touch of the top
of a cold bottle atop my hot
and sweating forehead.
You are the soft touch of skin;
the hit off the morning cigarette.
You are the uncontrollable, unprecendented laughter,
the artistic madness when a piece draws itself,
the point in a story where words just flow,
the poem that demands to be written,
the cool summer night's wind blowing across my neck,
making the shirt on my back wave like the sea.
You are the soft voice that whispers comfortably,
`it'll be okay, it'll all be all right,
and if it isn't, than it doesn't matter,
no one will give a shit in fifty years anyway'.
And you're close enough I can almost touch you
are you shying away or am I just afraid?
Afraid to be naked, afraid to be open,
afraid to be innocent and vibrant
like I felt with the pill and the lay?
