sunday snow,

incompleted,

i smell previous meals beneath it,

but I'm not complete,

an art that is flourished,

some words that unburden,

but forget the cost.

hold fast to your roof,

for it's shelter to pain,

hold close to your heart,

for the actions it's made.

hold on to yourself,

cause it's all that you'll have.

throw your sorrow to crows,

but it's not all that you have.

i'll have dinner at six,

with a bottle at nine,

but my soul only swells at midnight,

naught could keep it from happening.

my mouth is a fire

as i stumble through four doors

never knowing which one us would

seaside apple slices,

open oceanside,

beside myself interior,

in tears upon an infinite reef.

to endlessly crawl,

into bed while unmade.

to forgo love,

while i hold on to me,

like a drink.

to breathe indefinitely,

without one to care.

ahold of delusion,

the ghosts stand  right there.

to seek help,

in a soul that just can't,

to believe every word,

of the way that i am.

o', to be unloved,

by those who no longer sing.

to untangle heart's mess,

when love's voice doesn't ring.

to set sail in a storm,

to be drowned every day,

to wake up in puddle,

just to do it again.

to know i'd be ashamed,

to melt all memory to sand.

to justify all action,

to your face in the mirror,

if I could say that i loved you,

if i had said that i cared,