1-5-18
Climb the towers,
The cranes as they swing
With the wind
And I find birds in the light
Of dawn,
That seem to bring
A sense of freedom
To the cages
That I've been sleeping
In,
And I look at a city
Beneath me,
My views aren't the same
As they were from the grave,
And these bars
Are so different
In the rain.
The concrete dreams
Have me sleeping in,
But I'm so awake
As I lose myself
For a minute
In the way that it looks.
I'll hit my brakes
Just to take it all in,
And I only wish the
Days in which you'd stay
True
Were as infinite as mine,
And that only makes me
Wonder who fucked time.
There's a bitterness
I find winter in,
A conservation
Of reflection
That I keep swimming in,
And I don't mind the cold,
I could weather your
Storms.

Comforters and windowpanes,
I'd keep a mattress on the
Floor for you.
And I understand
Sacrifice,
And I understand
Its witnesses.
There's white noise
On the television,
I'm in love with the carpet,
We've been spending nights together
In the darkness.
I started something
Set it into motion
And it's funny because
I'm unsure of the strokes that
I made, in order to gather the
Strength
To live again.
I keep my feelings with the ceiling,
We talk about it all the time
And sometimes I can't begin
To fathom
The chances I've been given.
With the clouds
In my teeth
I think I'm gifted.
And I look at the metal
Railing, see the stars
That they've written in.
The names and numbers
And hands that felt
The metal
Periodically.

And it sets me rather on fire,
I would say.
I mix drinks with kids of clay,
Who fit into molds
And I wish you knew what
That bit meant.
I feel the ache,
Of being sold
To a life I didn't ask for,
And while it's true,
I've been up with the stars
And not the ones in
Gowns with coke and cars,
I am with the universe
On my own,
And you like the way that sounds.
The authenticity I keep around.
And I can't get the taste
Of you out of my mouth,
You're an ocean of caffeine
And I drown.

Put together the pieces,
I'm marking my life
With strings,
So I can come back.
But it's funny because
Even when I'm lost in it,
I know there's no way out,
Only a trace back
To reanalyze.
Why I push it all down
Will only make sense to me,
It's the device that I'm left with
But sometimes it's all there's left of me,
You could say what you want
But I run with efficiency,
This is a system to me,
Some kind of industry,
Of profit, of margins and losses,
Of numbers and costs,
And dates that I keep
Memorized with the clocks.
I tie off the tangles of white,
Wrapped around trees
And the youth
And those streets of night
And I've made so many connections
It's not a singular
That is right,
It is the answers that I find
That suit my mind
Or shoot my mind,
Tonight.
The way I used to be bothered
By the factors,
But I've been into the fight
So long
I have acceptance,
Not for the what but for the why.

Morning saturates this room,
I think Im too far up
When I hang from the moon,
I'd like to lie on the concrete
And dream about blue.
⁃ (m.m)