from a high-top table, branches bending

i think in lyric

mine and theirs

static rhythms keeping my stare affixed on memories and people i’ll never be

unless the shot gun blast finds a way through me

i left myself open

a crack at least

hoping you’d peer in with pure curious intention and press play

i may not give you what you want


stick around, keep listening

grind the stump and sit down

my story reflects people and places left placid in vapid outline traces for me to dissect when lonely echo fears steer my unrhyming sentiments into desperate voices that don’t sound like mine

i borrowed your lines, at times revealing the source

it’s all of ours of course

the main-course chorus, we’re trapped on this course where vibrations were once smooth

battling remorse

i’m hoarse

sounds i listen to alone while standing in line, clear, no buds in my ears, my utterance worsen with every stimulated synapse firing a new tone

leave me

let guilty-confident musings guide my thoughts, and challenge the language of stars to find a way through these bars your judgement raised between my lips

so malleable mind wanderings can become truth

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