we make things bigger
like pluto and dogwoods and
pulling apart file-cabinets, we
deconstruct our pasts
and fill them in with stories, horrors
houses with faces and mirrors with none
and my rear-view mirror revelation
seems so fitting, so right.
this time, i won't let it go
like the nato phonetic alphabet
and a certain failed attempt at playing
the devil's advocate.
misty, overcast, and beautiful all here in
some sort of glossy dream
but it's not, and your face is creased
and smiling, and i am thinking of the future
what i mean by this is
go home safely. and when you get there
please smile every day.
1 comment:
on a scale of 1 to emo, you are a 1. also, my word verification is "fonounce."
Post a Comment