Filth Lies and Rubbish

pearlzepfanpearlzepfan Posts: 456
edited December 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
“Filth lies and rubbish,” I scream, straining my voice, “Filth lies and rubbish,”
to the man sitting in my favorite seat on the bus
Sitting cross-legged
Beading eyes
Holding the New York Times but not reading
Just staring at all the other folks trying to leave their lives for some utopia
But not me, that can’t be me, that won’t be me
But that is all of us
And all of us are apart of one another, I think
It’s beautiful that we can’t see eye to eye or think alike
What does that mean anyways?
You like your things and I like mine
Your car
Your job
Your make up
Your beautiful face and body, Michelle
My pen
My paper
My woman
Not my woman
My Michelle
I’m the one that’s been right all along
That’s not saying you weren’t right too
Afterall
I’m yours and you are mine
What else do we need?
Money?
I’m only nineteen, money will come and go, and you can have it all
A new town?
It’s cold in Minnesota, but not today, it’s 50 degrees in the midst of December
A shooting star?
To wish upon it?
Your wish is gonna be different than mine, you know
Because we are not that same, Michelle and I are the same, not you and I
So anyone who isn’t the Michelle I’m speaking of can forget everything I’ve just said
"I'm a thief, and I dig it"
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • justamjustam Posts: 21,412
    Don't you think part of the beauty of love is that the person is different? You might as well be alone if the person is exactly like you! :D
    &&&&&&&&&&&&&&
  • okay...
    I'll dig a tunnel
    from my window to yours
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