Static
breathe into me
when all else is breaking into bottles over heads
give me reason to pull in your breath instead
deceive me for a minute
backtrack over roads where cars never crashed
and plates never lacked cracks to give them emotion
hold me still
in a windswept storm-strong decision
mark me with your own incision
keep me calm
breathe me in
Won't
We'll never have breakfast now.
Hold your silent tongue,
I know it all already.
(and if you want you can give your opinion on this too...)
Art
Rust is poetic.
Building.
Building on a clean surface we think we know
before it turns
before it's stuck under moss and dust
and somehow, when you turned your back
it scraped itself in hard-tarnished rust.
Rusted.
Like a sea change.
Waves that crash
and make sound before you've even taken your breath
before you've even hit the ground.
Like spare change.
Jingling in an empty pocket.
Like heart break.
Rust is poetic but, then again
so am I.
breathe into me
when all else is breaking into bottles over heads
give me reason to pull in your breath instead
deceive me for a minute
backtrack over roads where cars never crashed
and plates never lacked cracks to give them emotion
hold me still
in a windswept storm-strong decision
mark me with your own incision
keep me calm
breathe me in
Won't
We'll never have breakfast now.
Hold your silent tongue,
I know it all already.
(and if you want you can give your opinion on this too...)
Art
Rust is poetic.
Building.
Building on a clean surface we think we know
before it turns
before it's stuck under moss and dust
and somehow, when you turned your back
it scraped itself in hard-tarnished rust.
Rusted.
Like a sea change.
Waves that crash
and make sound before you've even taken your breath
before you've even hit the ground.
Like spare change.
Jingling in an empty pocket.
Like heart break.
Rust is poetic but, then again
so am I.