The final nail in my Trojan horse
As I enter the womb of the world
Drowning in empty words
And cut-throat conversations
Oh, it is a bloodbath!
All my warrior ideas fallen flat on the ground
Flattened under the weight
Of small talk
And smaller lives
The mediocre claws against my metaphor
And I cringe at words
That mean less and less
And you know
Less is not always more
Empty, so empty, to the core
You caught me right in my Achilles' foot
While I swooned over you
And your alluring absurdity
A better pick than this vacuity
And your thoughts, ablaze
Drugged with forbidden knowledge
Of your entire being
It is you
You that I want to know
And not forget
But I can no longer put together
My pixelated dreams
 |
| Failed Memories by David Szauder |
"But I don't want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped liked Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmothers house that one summer. Call me when I'm half asleep and tell me why you believe in god. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I'll be hanging on every word you say. Tell me everything. I do not want someone who just talks about the weather" - Source Unknown
