I sang for you
once,
at the cliff’s edge,
and you came to me.
You came to me
because
that was the point,
wasn’t it?
And I thought
I was clever.
And I thought
you were good.
I learned in time
that though
all stories are true,
I am
never
right.
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.
