this needs a good title

shoving back this
absence of
what were lacking
in an attempt to
leave it sitting there
rotting
for another time era
so we don’t have to deal with it today
when we know so much is wrong
too much to fix up
too overwhelming to paint over
and resell.

an un-gauge able reaction
to these bittersweet notes
of your
struggle
to be so inhumanly
sane

you’re too far
here
and way too with us
to come back
to your roots
that only the
tangled web of your
Sirens
hold the
hammer to.

and well see how shallow
the hole is dug
and how dense
the water will be
as you refuse to let out tears
to fill this
vast
daisy-less sea.

this thing of yours
this
little slip of existence
that you show so much
neglect for
has broken your brain
as dandruff sediments of golden
rocks
wait to be tossed about
again.


a meadow of clouds
is what you come to
upon the ground of
this bottomless pit
where you’ve found yourself climbing
up and
up and
up and
up and
up only to find yourself
in a land of
d
o
w
n
.


and within these clouds
you lapse between
reality and truth
clasping your ticket stub
and cherry glass hugs
for another
claw of a companion.

and there you perspire
with bricks of sweat of
vibrant grays
dabbing your skin.
and there you
are
forever stuck in the
heat
of a moment that will
never
be yours.