The story of you is mentioned in
A polished mirror
My story is the collision of what I say and what you hear
My expanding wasteline is filled with regrets
And fallen rose petals
I am just words. Poorly wrapped
with a brain as a bow. It falls off
as my story smears behind me
In blood stains from open wounds
from many of life’s steel shaft arrows
And ricochet of plans gone awry.
Dragged, a jumping bean, I’m peeled
On a string tied to the back of banana seat
Life stays two paces ahead of me
And I followed close on it’s diamond heels
A zero sum game
With wins and loss of the same
It took two fools to end a courtship,
A barrister or a softer pair of lips
From each window of the M1 northbound
Life’s pageantry of dreams from the incubus
Passing by, stop by stop
Wondering, Which one’s mine
where do I get off
when does this sentence end.
When does life stop taking tiny sips
