there's so much dust in me,
dusk, and the rust,
lust and the dusk in me,
to set me alight, on fire-
so much smoke and
cold and loneliness,
the seething emptiness,
and the hollow mornings;
for the sun to rise-
the hurt in me,
always hurting me-
the words in me,
never in the right sequence
or picture;
the elegance to be,
to be, or not-
a million years of
evolution and scriptures;
mixture of chaos,
and visitors;
with their pain,
with their home,
with their bombs,
and with their gones
bones and skeletons,
sharks and teeth;
seeds and forests,
just ready to burn;
to set me alight, on fire.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
there's so much dust in me,
dusk, and the rust,
lust and the dusk in me,
to set me alight, on fire-
so much smoke and
cold and loneliness,
the seething emptiness,
and the hollow mornings;
for the sun to rise-
the hurt in me,
always hurting me-
the words in me,
never in the right sequence
or picture;
the elegance to be,
to be, or not-
a million years of
evolution and scriptures;
mixture of chaos,
and visitors;
with their pain,
with their home,
with their bombs,
and with their gones
bones and skeletons,
sharks and teeth;
seeds and forests,
just ready to burn;
to set me alight, on fire.
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