january through to december.

sluggish
and shrouded in hurt.
what words do i say
when looking through watercolour visions?
paranoia and
floating towards nothing.
what pawn i have become towards
limited options,
scratching at the door of ambience.

'i took my shirt off in the yard'.

if i tug at your nerves would you notice?
'doo koo kim' and scarred corduray;
dying for a platform to grasp.
smirked smiles and sepia-toned dreams
where i hold out for simulated experiences
but find myself doused
in the distance of your shadow.
so starry-eyed and wonderous,
you are attached to my hip
and part of my skin.
you are my metaphysical.