i’m lying on ends of night
twisting turns on beds that once felt nice
kissed the hands of many like wet malachite
and i twirl in and out
taking photos with my mind
i’m lying in a coma and it seems all but right
making lefts to take edges
words and rhythm, wealth seems to be nothing
to tango in the thought of everything
it’s so tempting to be on flight
to twirl in power, but feel no emotion
talk in tongues because they can’t feel the feeling of this
to understand what this is
and i take no bliss to bed
feels like a coma, so dark in here
and i bare the thought to speak
rather rhyme in pure poetry
to die like this would be my heaven
to take the feeling of flying
to touch the air would be something
the clock ticks and the corners keep pulling
have you ever fallen asleep in pure hostility?
to break in edges
to break beds
to smash plates at walls
the power to feel it all
yet say nothing
i dance in my emotions
a drug to feel something
hidden sentences in paragraphs
the humming is all but haunting
words said came crashing
yet it was far too long, far too fast
a million miles too stretched
the oceans once spoke
and i listened to everything
to have everything yet nothing