They lie in wait like the third man on the edge of a consciousness
not quite formed, knocking softly to come in.
Nevermore is a resounding temptation that doesn't materialize
for the introspection that lies between us.
The flower pot outside my room about to whiz past our heads
and smash into the wall behind the bed, reminds me not to fall.
Interlaced fingers and interlocked eyes threaten the balance.
A failure to thrive that like suboxone, is segmented,
all it takes is just a sliver to return to normalcy.
An eight hundred dollar stripper that whispers
all the things you might have been into an open ear.
Marks left all over our faces and hands beg the question
if you can be so wrong for so long and suddenly find yourself in the right.
not quite formed, knocking softly to come in.
Nevermore is a resounding temptation that doesn't materialize
for the introspection that lies between us.
The flower pot outside my room about to whiz past our heads
and smash into the wall behind the bed, reminds me not to fall.
Interlaced fingers and interlocked eyes threaten the balance.
A failure to thrive that like suboxone, is segmented,
all it takes is just a sliver to return to normalcy.
An eight hundred dollar stripper that whispers
all the things you might have been into an open ear.
Marks left all over our faces and hands beg the question
if you can be so wrong for so long and suddenly find yourself in the right.
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