Eat pills. go to sleep dead. Skin the color of sheep. my body is a well “go healthy” Words that fall to my feet like picking up the pieces of broken teeth The ones he leaves without in my dreams Perched and maimed they just lay there. Dumbfounded. un-struck My mind knows when it is starting to get colder. It starts to wander. It starts to wonder why in these periods of cease the bravery turns to hunger And your stare goes dull But i know you better. I wanted to see the eternally embellished doorstep. But the pains have slowed my fingers - no talking points. no relevance Cross the street a little early just to wake up the tips of my fingers. And when the headlights come blaring towards me Will acceptance come more easy? Will depression set me free? When you spilled my design into there palms You spilled me.
