It was almost comedy, the way home changed
home went from being the building I grew up in, to the floor in a building I didn't own.
past and future were the lovers,
my mind the obstruction.
when night fell I misheard "love"
as "you mean nearly nothing to me,"
and the sky fell in.
Mechanical pencils,
and home
which can be found
somewhere under the stars
or maybe this ceiling
because the comedy of this is the fact that the way home changed wasn't funny.
this is kind of like a sequel to the previous poem, Anything But Shakespeare.
soo yeah...
hi
