Down

It's a cool place and they say it gets colder. You're bundled up now, wait 'til you get older...

And out, for a count

And a meticulous recounting

Of battlefields with failures mounting

Remains of what has passed

I don't sleep straight through anymore

Growing roots

Deserted pages

Obscure passages unearthed

Out of breath and obtuse

Let these violins beneath my skin

Brain turned to mush

And eyes just sagging

Naïve entitled rat

Ship-jumper borne parasitic

Wayward son, carrier on

Lacking the charisma to truly nest

You'd dispose of me too

I pre-assume

Pre-consumed

In thoughts of me and you

A sight for sore sockets

Torn pages in pockets

Seeking spells I may devour

To get this out of my head

Notes like inkblots wafting

Thoughts of love concocting

In matter gray so softly

Places I thought rotting

You could put me back together

With a kiss or just a letter

Hell you could do it

With a lie

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