There is a shift in the air
a divergent current, before an
outpouring of shredded clouds.
There is a difference
in the air
said our reflections,
irises caught in thin veins.
There are creases upon my dried conscience
the sadness tears out of my eyes
Threading my past memories
into cycles of fallacies.
Yes, it must be something in the air
the air we both grew up in
the breaths we smeared upon
birthday candles months apart.
We had the same troubles,
corresponding doubles,
the same ventilation of lungs.
Then the past settled, we grew up
our face darkened,
So I let out a flash of laughter
your hissing thoughts closely pursuing it
like two strands of lighting
Perforating the piers of my gut
Sure to switch off
My Volatile Heart.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
There is a shift in the air
a divergent current, before an
outpouring of shredded clouds.
There is a difference
in the air
said our reflections,
irises caught in thin veins.
There are creases upon my dried conscience
the sadness tears out of my eyes
Threading my past memories
into cycles of fallacies.
Yes, it must be something in the air
the air we both grew up in
the breaths we smeared upon
birthday candles months apart.
We had the same troubles,
corresponding doubles,
the same ventilation of lungs.
Then the past settled, we grew up
our face darkened,
So I let out a flash of laughter
your hissing thoughts closely pursuing it
like two strands of lighting
Perforating the piers of my gut
Sure to switch off
My Volatile Heart.
