split me open at the veneer
take everything you see
i’m letting out the emptiness
so plant your roots and remain
the words they’re all lost at sea
anything tangible would fill these _____
they’d fit but never for very long
linger for awhile then outstay their welcome
disembodied thoughts drift unconnected
can you string meaning from disaffected feelings
you’ve been educated you’ve been told
these fractions form part of a w(hole)?
breath warm and palpable on the cheek
feels like august through the streets
oh staccato lover, why so brief?
but permanence is _____, permanence is me.
I remember reading somewhere that Denmark is the happiest country in the world. Completely plausible considering you can wake up in the morning to something like this:
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