falling off pages
beheld to rivers
i talk in oasis
to feel you in edges
i speak to you at night
a numbness i seem to hold too tight
like your rope around my neck
the ceiling at grasp
i feel in a darkness
one which feels good to be in
the pavement moves
yet i stand still
my shoes ache
yet i stand here
i used to feel you in night
in shadows of my mind
in corners i turn
the blue burns like you used to
i used to feel used too
and i talk in tongues
in honest regard
in a moment of dark hoorah
the ceiling grasps
my hands i seem to attack
skin peels
i feel you all too well
with a shell on my back
hell in my hands
i break to bend
crawling to be
things make sense in the end
or it’s what people tell me
pacing hands