So what if the river dries up?
Black clouds over paradise-
the death of potential at the spawn of the uncontrollable.
I cant rewind time,
End up looking back instead of down.
I’m a walking skeleton,
an ignorant chaser,
hunting mirages in the desert of the past.


But the past has writ,
blood dries and ink curdles.
Love is poison,
bones break but scars are still wounds.
Today is fleeting,
every moment a forgotten memory.
Life is finite,
things turn grey- life shrivels as a flower in the heat.
Tomorrow is too far,
white knuckles throughout the night, white knuckles every night.


I’m out of time
Out of love and out of skipping rocks.
empty pockets and the presence of the absence.
What I wouldn’t give for a lifeline-
but no one thinks cause no one can know.
I know-
but my two cents aren’t worth a paper dollar.