weeks churn by like restless ghosts
and days bleed into one.
i can't decide who i miss most
although they aren't gone.
there's glitter in my baseline
and scratches on my heart.
nothing's as it's ever seemed
i'm losing all my art.
i hold to things too tightly
like your flannel, black and blue.
my soul's become unsightly
with all the sighing left to do.
i don't know where to drown my woes
and make myself forget
except for in old tv shows
and that's not time well spent.
where's my rest and my relief?
stuck in the distant past.
where do i my memories keep?
somewhere safe, for they don't last.
wandering through the dusty lands
of my very own old soul,
it's only by his gentle hands
that i don't feel so small.
among the lovely golden things
i've grown to truly miss,
i'm richer than a wealthy king
for dreams i can't resist.
although these daydreams haunt me
like century-old ghosts,
my heart is brave, without a key
i shake but am not lost.
