It comes to the poor,
It stalks the rich...
I'm hanging by a thread here
It's worn and it is frayed...
My life it is a tightrope
This wire is slippy as hell...
If you could take an eraser
To the bits of life that sucked...
If we are mirrored in a
parallel universe...
O Sailor!
It’s the way I want to be...
Eyes peer with guilt; beneath a tulle-net veil
her peevishness; steeped in silken black...
Though we know sight is right
A yearning resides...
Struck down with anxiety
Tensions weigh heavily upon me...
Clouds; collude for a stormy charade
thunder; echoes a grumbled demise...
There's a spot on the wall
Small and dark, just one...
Like being caught out in the rain
I was soaked; in pitiless shame...