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people

your gonna teach me how to tie love into a noose,
your gonna crush me, I’m set up, what’s the use?
I don’t like me, like you don’t like me. hell’s on fire,
further down the wire, she makes choirs sing no excuse.
I could perfect sign language and make a fist.
touching you hardly, or never, is an ironic twist.
teachers, gold stickers, hierarchy, graded to fit.
number one lover, diluted till everything is covered,
get up, break down, then slumber, get back,
kiss clowns gracefully swallow what you will never admit.
The hardest part about teaching you how to love was to finally get you to quit.

Autres oeuvres par Preston Standuptington...



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