That ship has rot in her foundation.
A thousand wooden holes
Open valves channel salt water in.
I thought about you yesterday but you must be thinking about me today because my thoughts have turned into feelings. They are poking, provoking and evoking an elaborate play of events- an entire script written by my mind.
The lines are as follows:
“I don’t like you because of everything.”
My brain failed to think of more possible explanations for the unrest between us before transforming its projection of reality into fact.
We just never found time for truth.
Visitation rights restricted
Strip privileges from the convicted,
Don’t feed the addicted.
Be ashamed of yourself,
You tried to put my name on a shelf.
Questions are not allowed,
Unless approved by the crowd.
I guess we’re all scared in some ways.
This is what I know.