An open letter to you

My thoughts rattle in my brain, and thick knots tie around my eyes and my skin making breathing harder (like a speeded bullet)

So what if I’m a child whispering in the dark and reading aloud, till the endings rhyme…like a child under a kaleidoscope. You said dreamers lie and so you must never have seen a sunrise, my friend. I’m not the branded deceit, fumbling in a misguided ecstasy of winter gold and night-time teas, to hear screaming and laughter made by whom?

Who varnished this day-dream under the yellow-paged moon, and brought wordless nights of heated nothings? Fickle hearts can’t be alone and a lie is not a bad word when it comes from a stranger. Now it just makes me laugh to think of it… all those wasted teas

pointless petty war

Before you know, the moon divides across the skies
The shallow light blinding, asleep and deadened
Earthquake under the sea, dreams whistling in the air
What does it mean to be asleep? winding in the wind
I can see a different march, peaceful blues inside of grey-
choking up our lungs