Breathe in Dust

The bright dull of primitive walkways 

The obvious truth to every word muttered 

You'd almost think that they want you to believe in the way they behave   

As if it is royal to feel fluttered  

By closing and pushing out blank stares. 

Raw words inching to be released  

Through your finger tips, to be fair. 

Dirt clung to the bottom of your shoe  

Repeating to yourself " If they knew" 

"If they knew"                                                  "If they knew" 

             "If they knew" 

Knew what? My darling, please, do tell. 

Unknown like nothing before, a screech of  

"Allow your secrets to fly out of the well." 

Do you obey? 

Do you know that I am completely bored and I love the sound of my pen scratching  

Off into space. So I allow my mind to wander? 

To hop around and around and around till it loses its meaning. 

The truth just presented to you 

Do you run? 

To what, but the numb blue? 

To the innermost part of your mind 

I don't know where this is going anymore 

Did Emily Dickinson know? 

Or is my breathe just chaos? 

Weaving in and out of the beautiful language of Gibberish 

Sanity clutched in my hand and new, silly characteristics of the world in my mouth. 

Patterns of present to past are no longer visible  

Just an ache in my speech 

Ink swirling in my lungs 

I try to breathe in the stars 

Then maybe you'd see the galaxies 

In my eyes 

Through my eyes 

Perfect 

Truly a useless word 

We must stay charmed and childish and a mess like this truce, my darling