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8 Days And Waiting
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15 Min Dream
just another beginning for a reflection that's out worn its welcome two figures walked in honesty and i could feel deafness gnawing at my fingertips if i could gnaw my fingertips
impatient itching a growing mutiny what is left of flesh slowly, beaten down by an unchecked brow if i could force a conclusion then i would breathe in consequence if i could dream in consciousness
bleached out sands, oubliettes, the endless white rooms of mansions
tease a prayer- remember to forget
a thousand forms of apologies, anything to escape this fifteen minute dream.
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