Taking now the only place to start.
Finding shelter in pouring rain.
And finding warmth in an empty shopping cart
I don't know ideas that crawl in your head.
I only know what needs to be said.
Not that what I know makes a difference.
The difference is I'd rather see this feeling dead.
It creeps in the air through my ears and eyes.
Feeling around and finding fake lies.
That everyone believes and restates.
That everyone sees and tries.
There is no subject except the one in your mind.
There is no lantern to help you find.
The heat in the night, the cold in the light.
This idea is purposefully unkind.
No comments:
Post a Comment