This is harder than I thought.
To think in a way which requires me to orchestrate
The play of words and stringing of purpose
To build the dish rich in thickly coated metaphors
To drive the alphabet into something bigger than itself…
I stand in front of a window pane
And rain drizzling to dance on the glass
The dazzling lights washing anew in every wake
Of a stranger’s cigarette smoke and strangling guilt
Sorry, I didn’t even know
What I am meaning to say
I know it has been far too long
Since I have thought it out
And tried to grasp the time in soon sequel
I will look myself in that mirror
Within the space which surrounds my conscience
Like an overdose of juxtaposition idiocy
The buffering waivers sent out so the truth
Wont sputter our in our chests    
Burying ourselves in our own layers