Cycles will not follow.
I feel like a decayed helix.
Every time I swallow…
Broken glass is gouging.
And when this pain does hollow.
I regret what I have lost.
For all these moments I borrow…
Refuse to let me circumvent…
Truth in times where I want sleep.
Lies continue to intimidate as they cut deep.
My cynicism always rears it’s head.
Cutting off prosperity as it lies beyond the red.
Yet moments flutter like butterfly wings.
Phasing in and out.
Buoys are weaving in these waves.
Choking on old doubt.
Nothing quite stops the fades.
For too long time is cut short.
I cannot see past this line.
Feels like an old retort.
Damaging these fragile times.
Of truth in times where I want sleep.
Lies continue to intimidate as they cut deep.
My cynicism always rears it’s head.
Cutting off prosperity as it lies beyond the red.
Yet moments flutter like butterfly wings.
Pathogen with a reckless candor.
No left to divide and conquer.
War inside my head is in stalemate.
Perhaps peace might break?
What I would give you a dose of calm.
Rather than a vicious storm.
Fracture these bends that are killing more.
I am buried within my own core.
Of counting figments that scream aloud.
They flaunt far too proud.
Ruffling feathers that I need to fly.
Too bad that’s not how it will go my guy.
Mirror call back from the fringe.
Try to ascend and your wings will singe.
Truth in times where I want sleep.
Lies continue to intimidate as they cut deep.
My cynicism always rears it’s head.
Cutting off prosperity as it lies beyond the red.
Yet moments flutter like butterfly wings.
