5.31

Every night I feel that I 

Could lay it all down on the line

why do I hold my tongue so tight

When it always could be the last night

To feel, to be, to breathe, to need

Wasting any potential memory

The past is dead

But only it seems to ever live again 

Only as the parts best forgotten
I thought you were fine

I guess they were all wrong

I thought it was alright

But you’ll sing one final song
Garden variety

we stitch it on our sleeves

We hear it all the time

And it puts everyone at ease
I’ve already burned too much time

Trying to scrub it from my skin

It can’t be lie

If the truth lies within it
I see through the lines

I guess they were all wrong

I thought it wasn’t time

But you’ll sing one final song
Every time could be the last 

Thought that you were fine

But guess they never saw past it.

~~~~

You held up a picture

Right in front of my face

A tiny little child; a sad, helpless babe

With eyes so bright

In this world out of place

A lucidity too hard to erase

Why would you call this one

Out of an empty space?

One to understand

Far too young

To move and manipulate man

Just to get out from

Dependency- a fundamental of infancy

It was never with intent

But you never told me if it was all planned

There are billions 

Couldn’t I have been left as the silent one?

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