conversations cut me with broken glass

walk into the sun screen

all the people we used to meet

walk past supermarkets

witness a forecast but don’t pay the price

dreams buried too deep to understand

conversations cut me with broken glass

faces cutting into imagination

every photograph balanced against the truth

shape every emotion with masquerade

behind every alley burning up control

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s