When Nerds Drink

I’m not even a little ashamed to admit that at my 21st birthday party, I came into my room and drunkenly wrote poetry. Most of it is illegible, but I think this one has potential:

The seasons change, but we haven’t.

The snow melts as if the devil himself had something to prove;

He grabs on to your shoes,

Warming the earth with each calculated footstep.

I walk behind,

Keeping distance enough to perpetuate a shield of armor.

The Medieval chain mail is fashioned from my wings;

For they have out grown me, but you haven’t.

I want to despise you,

Destroy you,

See your bones splinter from my words.

But I refuse:

Sadism saved your life; Masochism saved mine.


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