i.
charlie is twenty-one.
he works for pizza hut
and three weeks and two days ago,
his friend shot himself in the head.
again.
ii.
charlie drives in the rain,
the snow, through his tears
and with almost-severed hands
feebly gripping the steering wheel,
battling the storm inside.
iii.
charlie used to love many people,
but they seem to be killing themselves
more and more often.
he wishes he could fall in love with the living.
he wishes someone would stick around for him.
iv.
charlie decided he doesn't care anymore.
he doesn't want to work at pizza hut
or go to a sixth funeral.
he doesn't want to have dead friends
or fall in love with headstones.
charlie is alone, and he doesn't want to care.














Comments
--
The police are charging you with possession of stolen property thats right my heart
I believe in Jesus Christ my Savior.
this is amazing
--
gun hip swollen lip bottle sip
yeah i suck dick.
ahhh
--
[Love is never simple
But, believing is and if you believe
in the one that you truly love
then, everything's going to be ok.]
It's hard to have friends who don't love you back.
It's hard to have friends who love you but not themselves.
It's hard to have friends.
Beautiful writing stlye, as always. I connected with this one though, so it's all the more heavy on the heart.
--
I do all kinds of stuff for free as long as you draw me something back! I need the practice. Note me.
~
Homophobia: The irrational fear that gays will invade and rearrange your furniture against your will.
Is Charlie going to be okay?
--
Sometimes in order to help yourself, you need to help someone else.
--
Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
The hawk on fire hangs still. Dilly dilly, calls the loft hawk, come and be killed. Dilly dilly, come let us die.
it's those stupid things we say in the rain, the words that can't ever be washed away.
and thanks for the
--
Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
The hawk on fire hangs still. Dilly dilly, calls the loft hawk, come and be killed. Dilly dilly, come let us die.
it's those stupid things we say in the rain, the words that can't ever be washed away.
--
Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
The hawk on fire hangs still. Dilly dilly, calls the loft hawk, come and be killed. Dilly dilly, come let us die.
it's those stupid things we say in the rain, the words that can't ever be washed away.
i just really do know a guy named charlie, who does work at pizza hut and has five friends kill themselves.
so sorry if you thought i was infringing!
(but personally i adore your poem more
and thank you so much for the
--
Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
The hawk on fire hangs still. Dilly dilly, calls the loft hawk, come and be killed. Dilly dilly, come let us die.
it's those stupid things we say in the rain, the words that can't ever be washed away.
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