Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I don't even know...

The ribs and the rhymes of the passing prospects
ebb past me with a smooth consistency
I am in my head for such long passages of time
flowing with the tide, denying my denial

I float through the landscapes
of present and future
I look for the girl
and see her passing everywhere
Up close she seems even farther away
Dwelling not until after the time has passed
yet I glance over my shoulder
to see if she's still there

There is no comfort in the thought
but only in the experience
Throw that cover over your face
and the light will still shine through

Is it so bad to be of these times?

Do I act off blind feeling
or quiet contemplation
Do I jump or am I pushed
"It's like this" said my shadow
but the clouds were too dense in the sky

Wading through stagnant warm water
is contention in manageable doses

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