You’re void and uninvolved.
Eyelids that blind you from
Every humanistic crop circle we carve –
Tapping
Morris Codes against the walls.
You said,
“You don’t want to get involved.”
And I say,
“No way.”
Because I’m a parody.
Ox. Moronically. Insignificant. And too empathetic.
And you’re just an ignorant boy
With an loaded gun.
Your front.
Your facade.
Your dimples decay–
Fade
Into crooked smiles
That hold the truth.
(Proof of)
Who You ought To Be.
Cold Trailers in the shadow
Of a mountain of trash.
And metal detectors that
Sense
Your
Loneliness.
You hide
Behind designer hats.
But
In fact,That was all I expected.
I know what you mean
At the precise moments when you have no clue
What you really meant at all.
And that struck a vein,
Hit a well.
And you can’t cope with it.
Because your Dead End streak-
Your hollow spine-
The scar on your collar bone-
Looks good from the outside,
But
To me?
You are just another boy on my couch.
(At least that’s what I tell myself).
Fleeting moments—-
It’s 5 a.m.
And you had to leave the room
Just to
Cry.