literature

More of the same

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Literature Text

Atop the world, sat on
a slinky high stool in the cavern of a diner
there's a waiver in my arms they are surely made of whispers and limp silk
and an increasingly unfamiliar voice says,
'More of the same.'

I'm surely
on top of the world, sat at the bar of
everyone's favourite dive
there's a creeping scratch building up the walls and in my milky mind I hear
a friend to me and a thorn in my side say
'More of the same.'

I'm lost darling, all I know is
you hold me in stillness when I shake
and then I tremble again
for you

Swimming through the world, the waitress doesn't even
ask me anymore, she just delivers fate
with grilled tomatoes on a
plain white plate
and safety has no taste, when I
work towards the pale of melamine
I find the blank and dull face
which mirrors my own

All the figures sat on bar stools mouth repeatedly
'More of the same,'
and I roll my straw between my fingers
waiting for you to pass by the window
(30/07/13)
© 2013 - 2024 dreamingshadow
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