Grey has become of the sky                     Blue has taken control of the sky
Bewitching the street lights below            Alluring the birds below

Empty sidewalks                                       Buzzing sidewalks            
Crowded clouds                                         One single lonely cloud
This must be a dream                                This must be a dream
I feel empty                                                 I feel complete
Absent                                                  ­        Present
Is this to be alive                                          Is this to be alive

I can not see the diamonds up above        I can see the diamonds up above
It is lonely here outside                               It is lovely here outside
This day felt dreary                                    This day felt joyful
The night feels numb                                 This night feels sympathetic
Unlike the crowded clouds                        Like the blue sky
Hollow is my mind                                    Fulfilled is my mind

Grey has become of the sky                      Blue has taken control of the sky
Bewitching my sunken eyes                      Alluring my hopeful eyes

misery is a chronic pain residing my skull, afraid of the monster pounding in the cavity of my chest. it feels like the sky crashing down on my frail body because atlas refused to hold it anymore. misery is all i am, i want to tell you but you're not picking up the phone.

God is here
He's got a big face
There's children in the garage
This is wasting ink
Writing for a son
Nowhere to be found

Put a fist up my head
Saw 3 truths
1 about blowing smoke
2 about talking to strangers

Hopefully I can find the meaning down the road
I'm a little sick
And it's whatever
This time it's now

In dream, abundant
As roses to a girl
Whirl, pool, whirlpool
Wool, wisps, tickle
Taunt. In dreams, awake
Wide-eyed and red
Haunting choir, your joy
Multiplied, magnified,
Colourised. Shimmering,
Hung up to dry, to drip
In beads, as grief
On ground. In dreams,
Alive. Rattling, rumbling,
Merciless as a train
Touchable, unstoppable
A body of metal, of human
Full, of child, man, woman
Well, I – I I stand
Like a beehive at work
I – I – I curl my toes, my fingers
My bones. Contort. I am
Gyre, turning, turning,
Gyre, astray. You sigh
And it spreads like a scream
Hot, smokey, the steam-engine
Churns. Limbs move, move and
And the sky moves with them
The sun blinks between
Your windows, the ground
Mumbles, disturbed, grumbles.
And I, well. I – I do not
Give to the flight of soul
I do not limit myself to
Sweet. I am full on sweet.
On infatuation and yearn.
There is no music, no disection
Of beast. The violins move
Without their kin, and with them
Moves the world. I am
No pilgrim, O pilgrim love.
In dream, instilled, a storm at work
Red. Blue. Green. Red.
Blue. Green. You move
the birds. You do not
move me.