Non-Sequitors (Inspired by The Talking Heads)

Wed, 10/22/2014 - 08:54 -- delarys


I'm standing across a boy and a girl at the atrium

The boy is obviously in love with her
...she is less convinced.
My aunt is the biggest homo I've ever met
and I love her with all her gayness.
I hate this idea that children who come from same-sex homes 
end up, well, you know. 
I, contrary to popular belief, like guys a whole lot. 
In fact, if I had a dime for every time my heart 
was left disheveled by a boy with a nice smile, 
I'd be a a closet lesbian worth 50 cents. 
When the person who convinced me that suicide was not worth it, killed herself, I laughed. 
I think I'm living a good life if I bruise once a week. 
I hate New York.
I love New York.
Future possible epitaphs:
1.Your crotch isn't as repulsive from this angle.
2. Well...skydiving isn't for everyone.
3. She's still kicking, you know?
Mom, you suck and I feel bad for you. 
Avonte Oquendo: I called it. It wasn't a bet that I wanted to win, though.
I can't be happy for someone else unless I'm just as happy in the first place. 
I think my brain is starting to eat away at itself for lack of better things to do.
I'm going to Africa in a few days. 
I wonder how many likes I can get on Instagram. 
Why am I so concerned with bragging rights? I could be narcissistic.
In fact, I AM narcissistic, 
but to my defense if others don't know that I've lived through something, it's harder to believe that I have. 
Other people justify my existence. 
A real orgasm and a fake orgasm,
given your partner's level of self-absorption,
are not distinguishable.
The world is a terrible lover, 
and I am a worse liar. 
Life is the stuff(ing) before death and writing is a huge turkey. 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741