Rachel (saveahippie) wrote,

  • Mood:

Time's a revelator.

I'm NOT a recreational drug user.  But I got stitches in my hand last night, and so I'm a little poetic, in a sort of terrible way, under the medication I've been prescribed.  I just wrote this awful poem, sharing:

David Bowie crashed my car into the moon
I have mermaid legs and a belvedere head
It surely smells like the dickens in here
Not high enough to go searching
But enough to suffice under a cover
Your is better than your are
In quarrel form
Cloroform, but you are as
testy as a tempest, are you not?
Prove me awry
Fettered as a terrapin lollipop
Urine, save me now!
Might not wash that off so soon
Benefit doubt, no doubting more of my mouth.

So bad.  You're sort of relative.
So bad.
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