Friday, 5 August 2011
Diva to Fingers.
There's no point with you.
if you don't love me now, then
there's no point in trying anymore
and i don't know whether
you didn't get it
or you didn't care
that, for half a year
you've been a drawer full of mixed tapes
a desk-top filled to the brim with final drafts-
angry at my lack of appropriate metaphors
just to tell you how awesome you are.
love poems, loving you from afar,
loving you from the dark
freezing my heart before seeing it break
the only audience member I'd want
the only performer I'd perform to
the man i wish i could let my guard down to
for so long i've been dying to tell you,
killing myself over the words- I like you.
yesterday, In my drunken haze fingers,
I made a breakthrough.
see, I was so drunk,
I tried to text you what i was going through
I meant to say 'alone forever to wallow"
but my predictive text gave me "almond donous to wallow"
and I dropped my phone and fell. on my phone
and my phone broke and I cried in a field
and some guy took a picture
and I'm pretty sure it's going to turn into an internet meme.
I'm losing myself.
and realised I hadn't been me in a while
Since i became blind from staring
into the source of my life-
the eyes that have never looked twice
i was no longer myself. I wasn't Diva. I was lost.
and at a point that is arguably my lowest,
unable to move from a ground pulling down
and too weak to push up the falling sky
I shivered as fast as i my heart pumped
thoroughly and utterly fucked
completely due to falling in love
for a whole day i was unable to move
so I didn't move. I stayed in my place
and decided to wait
until Lost went and diva came.
you're unhealthy fingers.
you can only be loved in fantasy
you're a john hughes movie,
still rocking cowboy boots
double denim and a curtain fringe
and in another place, in another time
you would have been the shit.
now, you're a phase i'd rather forget.