Incoherent and maligned I've flatlined once on this dead beating drum of mine. Sober for the first time. I see the slow pace comets losing tracks, bending spaces between time. Taxing are these few and far wisps of red smoke inhaling what we've left behind. Foreclosing tabs for soreness stitching us back into a wall of lies. I am a fool to think I'd get this right, a trail of loss lags close behind. Shadows of jagged edges echoes of sharp ends. Shifty brown orbs, your flaming sides, a totem of indignity, fade in my light. And i thought id lost that darkness you brought, I bleached you out, your dirt and grime but you linger still casting ionic dark matter on my life. Dispel. These weighted glances and frowning ceilings cordoning out the world. I am foolish for there is no way out of this graveyard after all.
