180315

well, I walked through the days
with a song in my head
walked through walls
wove through many strange crowds,
apparently invisible.

hummed incoherence
and feigned ignorance
they didn't know what I was doing
I didn't either.

slow blinking thoughts
echo like lost dreams
and fade like the past,
a painfully sweet process.

sometimes I wake up
to feel the breeze upon my skin
a gentle reminder of sentience,
of things I should be heeding.

oh, but it’s a lovely sin
to plunge to the seabed
to disconnect so graciously
and cry myself to sleep.