making amends
is not easy
when you've torn the world
into a million pieces
spread them across
to the stars and galaxies
beyond the reach
of all the things you've dreamed of
so hard to find again
that they wont even fit right in.
it's alright
because nothing is meant to last
everything decays
and that is fine
because even the kiss
of a lover you miss
will one day be a bitter reminder
even though you smile at each other
even though your caress is new
to another
one day it will seem cold and dead.
the pieces that once fit
are obtuse like the mind
that once held them dear
and kept them free
for a world full of dreams and dreamers
where the truth of the matter
is that nothing will ever sound the same
not even when you smack
the same empty words
from your lips to their ears
every time
it feels like a brand new day.
it's not like anyone thought differently
have some more scar tissue on your plate
let the mind take a brake
feel up the ridges of your fissure
only scream when the aching starts again
serrated teeth eat at your insides
shitting out the nights' insight
while you die from it's decay.
Short stories, poems, among other play things. A constant work in progress. Forever changing.
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