Apr 24, 2010


i still have those plans
you remember? those ones we drew
we were high on dreams
strictly surviving off of that which we knew

i remember in such vivid detail
as i drew on the turquoise trunk
the ball point pen skipped like a sail
on a sea of dead, lifeless, textured paper

the imperfections were perfect
and the papers dents were ignored
the plans were of a house
made from canvas, concrete and board

inside of the house swirled nothing but dreams
each geometrical connection
bursting at the seams
bidding adieu to the gods and living solely ourselves

said angles of the abode were foreign
aghast i could hardly breathe
i held my breath for so long
that my lungs just started to bleed

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