Bad Poetry 2

April 8, 2013 at 10:20 pm (Uncategorized)

Always smiling–that laugh that sent the rest to the background.

The open eyes and electric voice.

The robot who was human.

The eyes like the sky.

The cackling electricity–magnetic and pulling at every fiber in me. That pulls me still.

 

Many things fade, but some things do not.

I am a quilt, made of patches.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: