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Description

i'm half the london fog and only

half of what you want,

i'm half a romantic but i can

never be loved:

filled up to the brim with

sleeping cancers, biding time,

overfull with good intentions

they nap so quietly inside me,

not a sound,

but i can't care enough to keep

ringing ears to the ground.

map out the holes in my lungs and the

subtle aches in my wrists,

bad machinery, i'm half robot

and half canary

i vomit bad poetry, sour and pathetic,

clever quips and broken sentences by the mouthful. it's a sickness i have,

lovesick, brain dead, lonely and

my heart bubbles and sputters

crawling it's way through the dusty

corners of my body

i'm a dig site, a cavern,

a tavern full of

lonely old men.

i dance through mondays

and sleep all of tuesday,

wednesday never comes but

weekends don't count now,

so what's the point?

what to look forward to other than

looking forward to

looking forward to

Description

i'm half the london fog and only

half of what you want,

i'm half a romantic but i can

never be loved:

filled up to the brim with

sleeping cancers, biding time,

overfull with good intentions

they nap so quietly inside me,

not a sound,

but i can't care enough to keep

ringing ears to the ground.

map out the holes in my lungs and the

subtle aches in my wrists,

bad machinery, i'm half robot

and half canary

i vomit bad poetry, sour and pathetic,

clever quips and broken sentences by the mouthful. it's a sickness i have,

lovesick, brain dead, lonely and

my heart bubbles and sputters

crawling it's way through the dusty

corners of my body

i'm a dig site, a cavern,

a tavern full of

lonely old men.

i dance through mondays

and sleep all of tuesday,

wednesday never comes but

weekends don't count now,

so what's the point?

what to look forward to other than

looking forward to

looking forward to