Friday, May 29, 2015

High Poetry

You're kind of like a blunt:
each time you come around
you're a bit smaller
and I am 
more in my head.
It's funny how 
when I am high
the most insignificant 
tapping of your 
impatient fingers
rings in my ears.
You've been waiting for me
to be nothing -
I have been waiting for you
to be more.  

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