A Figure Of Speech

once when i was a clever student of life i wrote the most splendid piece of poetry on how i was dependent upon your love. not much had changed in the months that followed since i produced it, and i pressed hard to overcome that little problem, but when no solution presented itself i did the only thing i knew how and gave up. but i didn't walk away with my head down, no, instead i bagged your love and sold it to my neighbor who promised to put it to good use. when he tried to talk me down i got nasty and told him i'd find another buyer. then he clamored something about the value of a buck and reluctantly bought it.

the son of a bitch then challenged me to a foot race, and without a moments hesitation i accepted. i stopped racing, but for all it's worth i think i would've won. after i dragged myself to the side of the road i sat down and waited. for what i'm not sure, but i was sad when it didn't show up. and in between all the waiting there was some longing. after hours passed i decided to start the walk home. when i arrived i went right to the couch and there i sat down. i retraced the events of the day for all the good and bad. all the love i harbored and i had sold yours. i made some coffee and sipped it slowly. i started to hum the melody of a song an old grade school teacher taught me and with that my eyes got heavy.

i died on that couch. that day. alone.
thinking about what i'd have to live without.

Light Poetic Song

i had been nervous because the scapegoat i elected was clearly condemning every thought i produced. i got scared when my grievances walked beyond the boundaries i had cast in stone. flexing their over-sized muscles, i was nothing but a puddle, and i was eerily still. so maybe i surrendered, for the weak of heart - maybe that's another excuse - it was damaged towards the start. catch this though, i hired a priest who i played for keeps to perform an exorcism. things went great, the demons escaped and the hunch on my back fell off. but when i asked the priest to leave, he was in an uproar at my knees. pleading and screaming! and with no other choice i found a large enough bat and i took that old priest out.