so we bundled our blankets and set them on stone
and these makeshift pillows,
they leave us alone
in the morning and after and it
sounds like a song
but i'm running and tripping
and my breathing's all wrong
let me up, i would shout
as though some strange boulder was
actually pushing me down.
at times i am gazing at gases and lights
the rings of jupiter
on a cold, frozen night
but mostly i'm thinking and you know
i can't see, there are rocks in my
chest, there are socks
in my sleeves.
1 comment:
i like the combo of metaphor/symbolism/whatever and the very real annoyance of finding balled-up socks in your sleeves when you try to put on a shirt. and also the gaslight anthem shoutout that probably isn't a gaslight anthem shoutout but i am a nerd so i saw it as a shoutout... yeah
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