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Apr 2012
Cardboard etchings of black roses
Floating fish eyed weary in amongst the rot and ruined
Soft humming echos off filth-water calm surfaces
Mirror and smoke coalescing into desert mirage *******
Those words must be salvaged
Baiting me into lyrical euphoria
Sharp edges cutting deep into the leathery, narcoleptic hide of my soul
Easing warm and quiet into all of my dark, secret crevices
Anxious to keep them safe
The walls sag and teater on the brink of Titanic tragedy
Watching it sink I pull inside every memory
Every taste, touch, bite of young, untrained teeth
An empty space where just gray shades reigned
Now growing cardboard black roses
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
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