Rebellious Conformity
here i sit by the coffee shop Window, oh-so-sophisticated, sipping my Latte, watching young girls prance the streets seductively saying "looking for a Date?" (yes i am) studying them with my smoky black Eyes, perfectly placed on my moon-white Skin, above my full Lips of deep scarlet that hold a drooping cigarette waiting to Fall. (like i will) prowling under the blinding Spotlight, as to remain Cloaked in my nighttime mystery, i pen my meager poetry to bare my Soul and i Share myself with no one. (i am afraid) living forever in Desperation, smiling only at life's Sick sense of humor, and even then it's only because i sold my Soul for a caffeine fix currently in the form of a Latte. (i have gone) i am the Typical nonconformist; i am the Submissive dominatrix; i am the Predictable rebel; but above all: i am the Logical oxymoron.Not really about me. At least, not physically. I suppose on some emotional level it's about me. Written March 22nd, 2002 © on Mar 22 2002 01:20 PM PST 0 • 9
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"here i sit by the coffee shop Window,..."