A bird flies by

A dark room

A quiet breath

A silent spring

A cautious turn

A streak of light

A wandered trail

A worried pet

A pearly gate

A nimble light

A passing car

A broken heart

A blackened eye

A leather bag

A moon shaped pool

A darkened screen

A dancing sky

A bird flies by

dead heads, floating in a sea of limbs

once we really get movin thats when they will chatter
chatter chatter chatter
day night
about nothingness
about every cooperate  nothing piece of forgettable garbage
like the ones surrounding our graves,
stuck in a swamp of pervious minds letting in crazed, lunatic mind scrubbing garbage from the tele- screen
along with cancerous goods baked to celebrate victory against the tumors themselves.
carnivorous teeth lash at the sight of a rotting body part, disregardful of the twitching eyes, and cooperate hull of lies
freedom is slavery
religion is selfishness
communication is a lie
yet if you want to be heard you must work with
the system,

end of hollow words

i don't want to write you
because my hands hurt quite a bit
from writing you before

you say things
you don't mean
and mean things
you don't say

you are nothing but
hands typing hollow words
into an empty space

carving my head
into nothing you mean

i overlook across each sentence
to the next
trying to grasp
that you might care

but permanence is temporary
in the ease of an email

collecting dust

we should of been two photos
torn right out of a modern magazine,

but we felt like old 1950s 
portraits collecting dust. 
and
when you talked to others
it felt like you were snapping 
fresh iphone pictures you would delete 
the next morning. 

i liked that we were different 

i still think about that sometimes (solstice's prompt)

my dad had too many books
about happiness in his closet.

i didn't understand.

if he wanted
to be happy,
he should of read books
that made him happy.
(he really liked love stories)

but instead,
he read books about happiness.
because he thought
they would make him happy.

i still think about that sometimes...

12:01 AM

say your last word
burn your last match
smoke the last cigarette

the clock reads 12:01
and ive been awake a lifetime

my eyes are tired
the room is red
i look at my hands
and notice their tread

i allow my love
to finally
die