hey look! it’s you without me. drive!

Chilling! By the way- if you didn't figure this out, the poem titles are the titles of the post... yes yes!


On the cold nights
of clichéd spasm
They pulsed together
in a
hallway they
called
big and long
when they were
fresh inmates in
a cell block
rolling eyes of failed
worshippers
dead lips of pathetic
girls, boys who were
chicken
and men who needed
to grow
The world would stop
that cold night
would become
a fairy tale
and they would rest
In time things would
never
change

(c) Caitlin C.