---

In silence thoughts are born,
stories that die with us:
gates to the internal world.

Let them open up.
Why do we fear our selves,
muffling silence with cold blue light?

Who are you
without the things you buy,
and the posts you like--
without the people you love,
alone in bed at night?

Projection,
story of my life:
silent judgement,
waisted insight.

Waking up
warm in the morning to
images
pouring down from the sky:
they’ll fade out when you die.

March 2016,
Haystack Rock in cold air,
high on ecstasy.

Seagulls in rain,
you didn’t want to see
your parents:
the love would be too great.

Dad’s getting
into boxing,
mom’s got cancer on her lips, (“the way blood is shown”)

sister’s depressed in Canada,
I’m right here:
just mind and this.

Old pain in the family:
fresh paint on the canvas.
Tears freeze on the mountain:
avoidant attachment.

Waking up
warm in the morning to
images
pouring down from the sky:
they’ll fade out when I die.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.