Where the silver star
grows from the grey memories,
the world expands;
the world shrivels,
and the stars—
the stars
grow old with every
punctuation.
Their function,
their tension,
their rhymes,
their vibes—
it all becomes
united under
C minors.
The sax dipped in wax,
its sensory disdain on top of
my pain,
interludes with the sounds
every jazzman ever produced
under the influence
of the cathartic symbiosis
of you and me.
Your tiny ring
on your teeny finger
reminds me of a face
I haven't seen in years.
The face of my pal
whose name rhymes with
[insert a noun].
I can't stand it
anymore.
I can't leave—
yet;
you are me,
and I am
no one.
A pair of black eyes
disappeared unnoticed.
5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 6:25 PM UTC
Where the silver star
grows from the grey memories,
the world expands;
the world shrivels,
and the stars—
the stars
grow old with every
punctuation.
Their function,
their tension,
their rhymes,
their vibes—
it all becomes
united under
C minors.
The sax dipped in wax,
its sensory disdain on top of
my pain,
interludes with the sounds
every jazzman ever produced
under the influence
of the cathartic symbiosis
of you and me.
Your tiny ring
on your teeny finger
reminds me of a face
I haven't seen in years.
The face of my pal
whose name rhymes with
[insert a noun].
I can't stand it
anymore.
I can't leave—
yet;
you are me,
and I am
no one.
A pair of black eyes
disappeared unnoticed.
