my ears have heard
words and utterances
some warm some cold sharp void of life
i fill a dropper full of lies and squeeze them in my eyes
but they roll out eventually
the heart can’t be made a fool even if it’s mine
i haunt the streets and alley ways i pick at crates and smoke away the vision of a miserable creature
whose love just ran away and left her with no direction
in my nightmare the flying carpets are ubiquitous and free
the torment starts when you stop by to tell me about my sorrows
the roses pluck at their own thorns as if they know i won’t come back tomorrow
