Fool's Paradise

In the end it always goes like this, symbolizing to me something sad but pure. Another gone year left to float away. Layers of life are specks in dusty beings dying a little more with each skin peeled, a rotting onion in my salad and I am eating it, a blanket...

Itemized Self

eyes teared, barely peel open lips pursed, on standby for a kiss nose holes stuffed with everything ears pop drums in company of altitude butt is bruised from falling down hands still reach for wide blue yonder feet try to wander roads less traveled limbs are ghosts...