Saturday, January 07, 2017

Inside

Like a memory that always
Comes with a photograph,
Fleeting as snow or
Enough to drown in a sea of nostalgia,
You're a probability,
Pregnant with erratic senses
That oscillate between 
Realms of pointlessness
And worth.
No, I don't want to know
If the climax of the story
Lies in gray or purple.
Yes,I want to know
If the climax of the story
Lies in gray or purple.
The spider in my brain
Keeps secrets from me.
I try and train the eight legs.
But there's always one 
That slips out when I hold down the other seven.
I split into two halves constantly,
While the spider cackles and scurries around.
A child and an undertaker
Cross paths.
When I come to the surface gasping for breath
Senses will fade, maybe you will too.

No comments:

Arrival

I am sitting at the International Arrivals section of Dulles airport right now and watching people. Reunions are always special.Different ...