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Borealis
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A world through slanted drapes:
sunshine only exists in strips
strips of light..strips of love
a pearly grey sky,
light between the prison bars
caught behind the glass
open the window..let in the air
its goldfish syndrome all over again
a garden outside..outdoors a bird
can't hear the song
the wall is too thick.
and in slanted shades...
my vision is distorted.
did you go little bird?
no..there again..not so
let me out
let me be
open the windows..
break down the doors...
tear down the blinds
burn down your lies
open your doors
the skeleton in the closet has to come out
either you let him free..
or he scratches a hole through your floor
scaring the neighbors
let out the anger
open the doors
if your words cannot be said where all can hear..then they hurt too much to be said
in the blues and azures of a post afternoon sky..posthumously existing in its own fading glory..
already dead
are we already dead?
why does it appear more glorious to the end?
everyone wants to go out with a bang.
swirl clouds..
create shapes for me.
create something for her to see..and remember.
something of beauty..to live for..or die for
where is my thing of beauty?
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040629
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