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i find
that before i sleep
i watch the same scene
over and over
maybe it's poor taste;
but i can't help it.

every time
i look at your face--
a flashback occurs
your eyes reflecting
a thousand different shades

and now i can see it, yes:

the ocean filled with souls
rolling to kiss the shore,
then running, screaming away

the sky on an endless day
so pure, perfect, invincible
made of shining solid metal

and of course, the city at night
gold glowing brighter, higher
so dark yet full of life.

something like the hundredth time
i realized it was a lie
that destiny
had predicted from the start

kindness was no more;
affection a tragic myth.

i am sick
in so many inconsistent ways
the first kind:

I will not participate in this dreamy craze.
What can I say?
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Submitted on
November 25, 2012
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