On The Wallsex on two fingertips with the same self conscious habits that come with trying to sell oneselfOn The Wall
as something one has never been
a tossed back head, mouth wide-
perfect picture of agony, or ecstasy.
With such a simple gesture arrive the problems of the day slightly vacant eyes wreathed in smoke through which we meet
In damp glassy mirrors I see the faint plea -
of "Please, believe me!"
Fitful Waking DreamsIt is the fate of these cities to be full of empty wonder as the streetlights come on The empty office towers like surly watchmen standing at attention - empty until the morning comes, filling them with busy worker bees droning on and on Perched in a high room above it all, I can imagine this to be the final dusk of life, as well as simply of the day.Fitful Waking Dreams
A popcorn ceiling straight out of an aerosol can tells a story - but only to those who pause to listen - to those that spend their nights on a cramped sofa bed with nothing to do but stare up, up, up, because there is nothing to notice within. We have exhausted our
Ticking TimeSummer seeps away,Ticking Time
During breezy evenings.
Slinking along the street,
Buried in deep pockets of a sweater. Chilly winds of Autumn
Bring forth dreams of leaves and giggles. Stifling hot days soon forgotten In favor of the cool.
We wish again For the emptiness of summer. Long ago that passed,
And now we're only getting closer.
Pickles and FuneralsThe last pickle fished out of a jar, Bitter juice poured down the sink, Soiling the already dirty dishes. A heavy iron hammer, Beating nails into a hollow sounding casket. Summer strawberriesPickles and Funerals
remind of painless falls and scrapes, the time when crying was still alright.
Marking the capture of a spirit. Forget the memories of a simple life, While your past is being buried. The last shovel is patted down, Breaking the spell of misery.
Bye bye for now...
I'm so RAD
I don't have anything named after me, but I mean ressurection!
thanks fer the comments
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