Empty vessels waiting for smoke to form our bones
I am a stranger in my own skin
Lost in internal conversations with voices that are not my own
Staring at unfamiliar faces in polished glass
Internet savvy and computer ill
My eyes are bloody
We are anxious for fingers to crack our shells
To let the thoughts leak out and spread wings of their own
I lay vacant
Waiting to be born again in bright light
To see trees grown into half moons around power lines
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