44 hours are heavily darkened circles
Having been drawn over too many times
From too many days and too many nights.
Pile on to keep the conscious balanced,
But in a while the scale will break.
The chains are stable pulses,
Electric anchors along my nape.
Metaphysical decapitation
Sends rolling dreams on a winding road.
I must be running on amazing,
Or extremely stupid, falsely bold.
No comments:
Post a Comment