I keep thinking there is someone I can call
Drugs I can take
And powerful things
The darker things
That still know my name
I wish I didn’t know myself so well
I wish I didn’t think of me at all
Exchanges in my head
Are so powerfully meaningless
Septic nonsense
A dirge of names
A treachery of mine
A castle in the sky
No more attainable
Than serenity
As accessible as death
Like esoteric reading of tea leaves
My future in the debris
I am always the fool
When it comes to dandelions
But this cotton candy romance is wearing off
Self awareness like poison apple fills me with reproach
No one tells you that the grave is full of time
Iconoclastgrey Word Artist 