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May 2020
My silence go on
wondering if your tongue
can catch a true out
cracked in my lungs

A past like an old rock
painted with ghosts violets
who eyes go in and lost
beyond not walls, but wicked alphabets

A metaphor ******* with lights
Shining rights a path of lie
to feel me once again whole
in this touch of such an old soul

Revisiting my tight around the couch
old furs within me and without
fancying my mask with pearls
finding myself in this claws

Once again medicated ill of the daughters
swallowing pills in an ocean of waters
dry lips hiding a velvet clear
to crack in the back of my ears

In the end the same lights
where any me is all, your shadow view
to hide the same disguise
of a life without a clue
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