Open Letter

It's your soundtrack; I ain't so emo
so bent into myself

 

exuberance is the only reason to write anymore.
Brand New is screaming incomprehensibly yet straight
into the hole in my soul.
 

Until the next Mayday Parade.

 

Never finished, always on the prowl for new sounds and

an open church door

 

@ 2 am the pews are filled and the air is a specter

beside you

and holy can only describe the purity of mercy,

all else is dusted with head lice.

 

 

It's getting longer clown- 

the line around the block and thru the alleyway and back again and in the end

you end up in the same nowhere.

Author's Note

Re: reviews below

In Mr. Soulchild's defense, what he read/reviewed was half as long and incomprehensible to me, as the author. It may or not make more sense now, but you're right in your assumption that this was for a particular person. I thank any and all for criticism/interest and hope to hear from you. Z

Reviews

[Flowetic Soulchild]

I just want to say I had hell trying to figure out exactly what you wrote here...
So Is this a piece about music... Cause I was trying to make the connection between Brand New and Mayday Parade... I know nothing about either so I guess that's why I'm not understanding... Or am I just totally off of whats going on...

[Chloe Madison Taylor.]

Flowetic Soulchild probably didn't understand it because it wasn't meant for him.


Thanks. I really am sorry it took me so long to send that letter. It might have been my subconscious getting revenge after it waited so long for your last letter, as well.


I think this poem is beautiful.

[Emily B]

there is power in the word . . . when you boil it down to the bare bones . . . wonderful