No distractions can fill it,
No path will lead it.
So much was left on the table.
My thoughts blend like taffy,
Your sweet bright colors swirl into the mind’s black abyss.
I look at the future backwards
Getting drawn into the hallucinogenic minutia
Snapping at fireflies.
The minds mirror maze,
Each turn loops back on itself
Where you spend your days dancing with ghosts
As reason impales you on the dreams of tommorow.
Each day bleeds into the next
Beating the drums of loneliness,
The well-groomed precession of empty picture frames
Each marching one to the next,
Decorating empty walls
In a forgotten home.
No safe harbor in your eyes,
Only solitary vapid thoughts
Churning out nothingness
Leaving nothingness in its wake.
Sandcastles built on supposition
Mixed with arbitrary fascination
And sprinkled with upended compassion.
A puppet with its own back story
Hung around my neck like the albatross.
I find your footprints when gaze lingers on my mausoleum,
I can feel your heat as you pass by,
I would have poured what was left into you.
If it were destined to be it would.
A teacup just won’t do after years of drinking straight from the hose,
It was never meant to be sip by sip.
If I don’t have another endless ocean,
No boundless infinity stretching from stem to stern,
Then the island I will become.
The exit wound it leaves can only be filled with what was lost,
No substitute can fool the guards.
Mindless pursuit, one after the other,
Each just as hallow as the last
Life was designed as a duet and once it ends you learn to live in the absence of light.
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