how many more
                
          drying days

                              until your name is just

       recycled little letters

                           sprinkled in my
  
        lonely language?

beats are pulsing through lit eyes
that see amber
coated in a hand
that looks like honey
underneath the
yellow streetlights
a small head sticks out a
moving car window
on a still darkened evening
the only sound the
soft wind
and
the endless haunting unknown

every conversation silence and a side glance
a pandemonium of film
blinking rain away
that's what freedom is;
fleeting along the pretty grass
cold breath and sunshine

that's what freedom is

its ((music so loud)) cause it
((drowns out all those voices))

that's what freedom is
its a lie you pursue, its a promise lost to the flow
freedom'll fizzle out without a glow
it'll leave as a crow

cawing out across the abyss
to its ******

Panorama running pandemonium

placid petals peeling from peonies

pretty people playing but pacing

prone to pain, passing

like pages and palm leaves

planned to ***** and pale