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Won't Be Small
Slimy mud keeps coming
A plane ride back and its all the same
Different hopes down again
No to yes I can’t remember
Itsy crumbs not flying
Messy desk on the other side
Concealing apple holding back
Sun to rain just one day
Broken ash pulling through
Awaking darkness sliding snooze
Sugar and cream pour into
Empty to high that dark room
Words flow silent mean
Hollow eyes what’s behind?
Mysterious or burdened who knows
Stone to peep contrasts belief
Teeth chatter lisping wind
Follow colors in and out
The pink that sickened tender scar
Mascara to mask weekly road
Bones battered skin thickens
Yearn today and maybe tomorrow
Nothing sticks it all still juggles
Pillow to coal snapping fingers
