the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

American Eater

I've been wrong about many things
Like the pockets of air kept under my skin,
The cracking sound of dry earth in hot light.
They're throwing dirt on me, burying me if I don’t move.
It's not that I don't focus enough,
It's just that I put too much focus into everything.
Too much focus makes clarity piercing,
Popping the locks on stability.
You asked for it, now answer the door,
Those heavy eyes, once yours, drag up from the floor.

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