Feet Glued Down
I want you to know where you stand with me as i
sink into your leather faux life,
and whether you love me or not does not merit the
plucking of petals in a drought.
Yet, I want you to see the pedestal with your yellow-eyed sight.
It is a crazy night and we share the same moon
in seperate ways.
Your gone days of vacation from disease and
hometown pains and memories are
keeping me in a solo bliss of far away...
wind blown body of mine-
bathing my soul in my own liquid ocean that will not be dried by wounded defeat.
I cry because I cannot keep expressing your painful impact on me.
All of this I must delete.
Alas, I know I am not yours, but
I cannot use my feet
to actually go,
and goddbye seems so
silly and obsolete.