Sunday 29 August 2010

I lost myself several times along the way

Sitting here on the treetops
 I fold into myself
Twist out, fate is diagonal 
Every fate is possible


I hear the sounds repeating
Can't translate the chatter
When they scream it means they're enjoying it

Sorry I was on the wrong floor all-together
Where was the dream pulsing through me
Why am I still here writing poetry
 Don't fall asleep inside your fantasy

rewired to function in society
Purchase fold up chairs with my credit card
smack myself in the forehead for believing it was real

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