#poem ?
I was reading a love poem
And I didn't feel a thing;
It was the same with erotica,
And the same old sad stuff;
There are memories of us in all that,
Sweet and sad and bloody hot and all that;
But there's another image,
Haunting, more than her brain dead;
I can't remember the joke
But I can't forget her
Doubled over, in stitches,
Punching me, god, that was sexy;
Come on, someone, do what I can't do,
Make me laugh and give these tears a bad name.
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