Holy water into wine. Beer from barley.
Walking on the roof of a brewery,
Contemplating how Jimmy Fallon's
Finger never really seems to heal.
Combine harvester headlights dance
On the living room walls
As I lean back on my white IKEA
Sofa, tracing long hairs and
Fingerprints of lovers gone,
Wondering why I chose such a
Revealing colour.
Suppose the transparency matches
That of my soul's lining.
Holy water into wine.
Fields of gold now liquid painkillers
Slurring the voices in my head that
Pick fights with my heart over
Insignificant issues.
I lip synch to the music of my
Neglected talents and the memories
Of inspiration attached.
Bullets like knuckles rapping, rapping
At my empty chamber
Door.
Every finger I ever broke
Was from typing or
Punching
Walls.
Sometimes I put on the mask of
Poet, and pretend to be writing
For as long as it takes to fool
The empty pages.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Holy water into wine. Beer from barley.
Walking on the roof of a brewery,
Contemplating how Jimmy Fallon's
Finger never really seems to heal.
Combine harvester headlights dance
On the living room walls
As I lean back on my white IKEA
Sofa, tracing long hairs and
Fingerprints of lovers gone,
Wondering why I chose such a
Revealing colour.
Suppose the transparency matches
That of my soul's lining.
Holy water into wine.
Fields of gold now liquid painkillers
Slurring the voices in my head that
Pick fights with my heart over
Insignificant issues.
I lip synch to the music of my
Neglected talents and the memories
Of inspiration attached.
Bullets like knuckles rapping, rapping
At my empty chamber
Door.
Every finger I ever broke
Was from typing or
Punching
Walls.
Sometimes I put on the mask of
Poet, and pretend to be writing
For as long as it takes to fool
The empty pages.
