Loki Wyrd Posted April 13, 2005 Report Share Posted April 13, 2005 (edited) Yellow dashes confirm my suspicion that the road will go on. I can imagine myself driving sentry around the rim of a deep, black frying pan, the only thing compelling me, its Teflon coating. If I were a coat... I would have many pockets on the inside, but none facing out. You rescue a coat off the bench; it was folded over the back, one arm extended so when the wind wasn't blowing it would droop to the cracked sidewalk below. Feeling the material between your thumb and forefinger, it reminds you of a jacket that you had as a young child (the one your mom got rid of without you knowing until the leaves had changed). Muscles convulse up the entirety of my body, eyes startling open. Too late. The brake refuses my appeal, all rationale thrown behind it-- until a bench interjected. This probably could still use a lot of polish, I wrote it last night while I was fending off the Sandman. I'll work on it, if I still feel it's worth the effort once I've become more removed from it. *Edit: There's a revision for you (ok, for me). I'm not sure about the title, I have the worse time coming up with good ones. That's why I typically don't bother. Edited April 13, 2005 by Loki Wyrd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mynx Posted April 13, 2005 Report Share Posted April 13, 2005 Well *I* liked it Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted April 14, 2005 Author Report Share Posted April 14, 2005 (edited) The title, or poem? Actually...could someone please change the title for me? I think Interjection would be more appropriate. Edited April 14, 2005 by Loki Wyrd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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