Emotions as old as time,
That crack open in my chest,
I bought a vest,
It’s not worth a dime.
I do not wish for pity,
I bought the vest,
I wear it as a zest,
I am not mature yet.
I wear dreams on my slevees
My crack open, the light out
I never had them from the start
But I dreamt every night
In my own sleepless bed.
To dream of a world
Which I have no words for,
Just a blurry image, pale
Reflection of my stale
Present opaque page.
I live inside my mind
Inside fireflies and lullabies,
A fly in the darkness, fires
Of an aching wishful spine.
I carry my own head,
Like Atlas carries the night sky,
My spine, as old as time,
I carry the weight
Of a nerve wrecked cry.
Unborn words, a pity,
A prayer for the sky
Unborn desires, an unborn God,
I carry my own mind.
