Those spires, the twin spires, are there. I stare and look, engulfed and awash in a sea of bitterness. One is falling down, a crooked, dilapidated, engineering nightmare. A monstrosity of putrification. Fuck it. The other stands and smiles. And well it might. It gloats and laughs and spits in my face. I don't have time for this.
Reason for writing:
It's that girl that I REALLY like again. She's now with one of these twins. A friend suggested the title and that's what came out. I still think I'm going a little weird.
Birth sign: Taurus
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Trumpet-Trumpet Thaxton.