Walking in that white suit,
your hair plastered to your scalp.
Like a hat.
The nasally squeeze, of your lyrics writhing out..
the pinch of your lips..
If all I can do is memorize pictures.
If all I can have are dreams to keep me complacent..
Then I'm frozen looking out from the vents you call eyes,
leaking down to this print.
Is it too much to wish that we could graduate from this courier new?
Limping from one trial to the next.
I wade in the reoccurring back fade.
Picturing there was a way to go backwards,
that you could have come further.
But no tears for us.
There are no more you's to write us into this situation.
Screwing thru the servitude,
I blink at your recorded exhale.
But no tear's for us.
There are no more you's,
to lie and wish me well.
As they seek their comforts.
As they embrace their negligent reasoning.
But the patrons of occasions like these,
we just cross our eyes.
We just pinch our veins, too see if plasma still drifts through something,
so hollow..
How are we so numb?
When you were so vivid?
With every ash that falls to earth,
I feel less a human.

/close./