Monday, May 14, 2012

I need to somehow find a bed

There's an empty space like
a discolored floor,
or crippled boards and
misspelled names stacked on
naked bookshelves distorted by
the whine of fluorescent lights,
spilling methane, fluoride, mercury
dreams into our brains.

You'll bury it deep where I'll forget
that something is here
covered by our yellowed veins,
that black hole space
you thought was so vast it could
contain everything at once,

When you laughed and threw
my soul in I watched,

In a moment
you'll forget
why I dove in to catch it.

1 comment:

  1. "Fuck it, in goes your soul."

    Could be boredom, or hopelessness.