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I’m standing at the cross roads Hoping I see you. To meet you in the morning fog in the crystal dew To sit you down and talk awhile, bout men like you. How you walk so tall, and broad, But the mirror really captures you. Summer wasps, a salt facade A face in the burning blue. All in all it’s flaws, how you choose, Which road had the map for you? What you’ve got is a given Until you have lost it Why swim in feelings When they all taste awful? Where is the limit To nowhere, cut off from: Unlimited visions of myself feeling awful. If your questions are brutal, there’s no way to block it, Already mourning the loss of our boxes
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Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 1:10 PM UTC
Brutal Questions
I’m standing at the cross roads Hoping I see you. To meet you in the morning fog in the crystal dew To sit you down and talk awhile, bout men like you. How you walk so tall, and broad, But the mirror really captures you. Summer wasps, a salt facade A face in the burning blue. All in all it’s flaws, how you choose, Which road had the map for you? What you’ve got is a given Until you have lost it Why swim in feelings When they all taste awful? Where is the limit To nowhere, cut off from: Unlimited visions of myself feeling awful. If your questions are brutal, there’s no way to block it, Already mourning the loss of our boxes
joshua-s-bailey
Written by
Lyerly, Georgia
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 1:10 PM UTC
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