Crawling Things
Letting It fade into the palm.
if only I scrubbed with greased elbow.
Why do I entertain such scorpions
with ebony reflective shells.
I walk to the car looking
excepting to see the previous.
Always seeing it, always believing it.
Time is to heal, but time is the infirmity.
Talking on the phone is pathetic
for this toxic hermitage.
Talking nostalgic day dreams
As you stand dead in front.
Little faith. this medicine can penetrate
I just sit and Slowdrag.
The fly mind, should just sit,
Web kills in struggle.
Sticking to butterfly bones
Killing me softly with my memories.
Look at the chaff palm green.
Some how that does not scare you.
The wiggling insects are force feeding
the fly should just sit.
web of rainbow, but tarring wings.
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009
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