2012 - by Vixie
February 02, 2007 | 11:09 PM | Filed in: Writing
I will still be young.
I will be 23.
I am seventeen.
Not as sweet as sixteen.
I sometimes want a baby;
To calm this heaving complex within me.
I will be 23.
I am seventeen.
Not as sweet as sixteen.
I sometimes want a baby;
To calm this heaving complex within me.
Maybe the tides will settle then.
In me, in the world; and all will be one.
Send something warm over.
It’s so sad how everything is dying,
But you know what?
That sea will always be there,
Thriving with things our kind will never know,
No matter how many babies we make.
So we should all regress into the sea,
With our children in hand,
And try and be one with the unknown,
With our beginning, and most importantly
Our future.
In me, in the world; and all will be one.
Send something warm over.
It’s so sad how everything is dying,
But you know what?
That sea will always be there,
Thriving with things our kind will never know,
No matter how many babies we make.
So we should all regress into the sea,
With our children in hand,
And try and be one with the unknown,
With our beginning, and most importantly
Our future.