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3:43 a.m.On my bed I sit upright. Alone and cold with a hookah coal burning next to me. Green tea goes down my throat easily,3:43 a.m.
yet nothing’s easy anymore. I exhale a puff of smoke. We took a break so you could find yourself,
who you are, what you want, where you’re going. Yet you’ve found nothing but a replacement. You’re lost in the world and mimic my proxy. He sees his path, yours is dark. He’s done things, you’ve read books. He is him, you’ve changed to be like him.
You are my friend, my buddy. I would nev
by ~buddhasbacker
Taxful FeelingsI am a single public accountant for an unforgiving society. A dying breed, we struggle to maintain our existence. When tax season comes, we are your best friend, the remainder of the year we can be located under the pavement your Volvo drives upon. When we are in need of tax relieve, however, you have gone missing. How dare I suspect that you prepare my taxes. How dare I refuse to do your taxes.Taxful Feelings
I am a public servant grinding my #2 pencil against oaks. Hours pass as I find every deduction possible for your individual situation as you update your Facebook status. I
by ~buddhasbacker
Ode to my feetYou constrict me in this cotton jail that I’ve known since the day I started screaming. Gilded by a blue veil, I never saw the world.Ode to my feet
Oh, I’ve traveled across the globe- Germany, England, Austria, Lichtenstein. But I’ve never seen its beauty. Never touched its soil.
The sites I have seen, however, were beautiful even though it was usually raining. The turquoise squares against my face. The sand touching every inch.
When you do let me out, let me breath, a bohemian beauty bliss over takes my body. I’m closer
by ~buddhasbacker
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A Mind is a movin' poem.
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The human body can be drained of blood in 8.6 seconds given adequate vacuuming systems.
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