There Would Be More

We are not
as I had originally
imagined us to be.
I thought somehow
there would be more Stardust
and less spray paint,
more Yahtzee
and less tears.
I thought you would like
my homemade moonshine;
I had not imagined
you would want me
to like your homemade taxidermy.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.