the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Because Consciousness Is Not Permanent

A prefix overused
For twisting stubborn knobs
That twist back or not at all,
If never used
Or pursued in falling.
Calling out the colors
That painted my emotions
Red and green for stopping motions,
Painting pictures incomplete
Reminding of the obsolete.
Complete the circle one more time
The conscious choice was never mine,
Surface up when best dressed down
The sound of striking, venom strong.
And with my poisoned mental lungs
I'll say I miss it all.
I said I miss it all.

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