sometimes
i like the way we tilt
our sorrow-ridden eyes
sometimes
i'd like to kill the ghosts
flying around strands of
hair unmanaged
thought i'd like
to be the sage with eternal quotes
constantly fed from pockets
sometimes
i really am the idiot
but not always
not today.
sometimes
you make complete sense
sometimes.
so many dreams
that are literal dreams
no metaphors or reality
knowing who loves the good
inside my head
(but only in there is it mattering)
music to break the rust
destroy the dust taunting us
define what change can make
do we really love them?
how much more can we question?
what would happen
in one's own heaven?
impossible to get this
quite right
but i'm trying?
disgraceful i am becoming
still now hoping in
whatever's left of our innocence
scraping nails on
whatever's left of this
miasmic test trial event
i'll be gone soon
Author notes
format at the beginning to end
representing
instant mood swings.
Adding your comment: