word_eyes

Fading reminissance decaying rose sighed silently in your absence, trapped violently in your vase alone, it cries, no face to wipe, but petals to bleed, its body, drying its skin, ashing its eyes, sagging its neck, weakening its hands, wrinkling, dying for a sip, and you come home, after lost moments and mornings, and offer the plant a beer. And in a rage that it did not respond, you struck its cheeks, assuming that it felt nothing as it crashed against the end table, watching you walk away drinking a glass of fresh water.

My thoughts are homeless by their own free will, or rather speechless wandering through the empty heads of question marks avoiding the crowded adjectives sleeping under a lice ridden blanket of phrases holding onto a styrophoam cup of verbs as the run-on sentences quickly pass by tossing loose words, but never change and the successful paragraphs just look and utter "no one will hire a man who lacks proper punctuation."

funny how life collapses it almost traps us inside of who we are or who we pretend to be, and the shadow that it casts is massive darkening all that surrounds us including the path we walked to get to where we are, and every candle in front of you seems brighter than the next and you don't care where they lead as long as there's light where you believe you need to get, but they too will fade out, even the sun will become a black hole standing behind you and once you realize that you've created a sequence of nowhere, no one, and nothing you'll retrace your mistakes and chase them back to your shadow, and fade out too. Your shadow will live as your replacement with your name and your faces, and not even you will be able to tell the difference, because you too, were just an imitation.