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Left My Fingers, Took My Voice
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January 2013 Smokin blunts as long as city blocks,
as long as the hands on Big Bens clock,
as long as the length from the heel to toe of a size 14 sock,
longer then the amount of time we now talk,
it's so much easier to deal all alone,
with pain in my brain i write out in a poem,
i can only write how i feel, never show em,
i felt like we were great friends, but barely know em,
replace this pain with something so much more,
your face in my brain, it's all i have in store,
until the memory fades i'll space out some more,
and nightly dream i'm past your front door,
there are too many times people have tried to help,
just to leave me on the side of the road by myself,
sewed my mouth shut so i could never yelp,
but left my fingers moving towards the book on my shelf.
