LivingDreamer97

The cost of intellectual property has gone up. I can already feel the ideas curdling like milk, Strings of silver silk lining Tangling it up so neatly-- A package for the loan-shark in my bed in the morning. A message to my lover, to whom I owe such a debt: All you ever do anymore is take. My poems crumble at the touch, Fading into the clusters of Sunday brunch and Family Guy reruns. What's the price of the two seconds of quiet Without a pile of unfilled lines awaiting my autograph Ruffling through the papers you'll have me sign- What wouldn't I give to sign with the devil, over you... Teetering on the corner of thought, My pen limp and b