Look at them for
who they are
the things that knit and pull
the tender threads
of thought
dragging them across tepid
pools of punctured peace

You come traipsing through my mind
like a herd of deer
grazing on the patches
of thought
I'd tried to keep a secret

Oh- you know I tried,
but the forbidden things always taste better
with a glass of disdain
to wash everything down
I am a small pebble
laying at the foot of boulders
somehow both get ground away
all the same

and If I could find the way out
of my own head
I would humbly give you the keys
I'm sure you'd do a better job than me
so since there are no keys fashioned for such a place
I will keep making
my own mistakes
and I'll leave you to yours