Wreck & Reference Modern Asylum
I open my mouth to spit on the walls. The words bounce around my head, vault where ego and insecurity make backroom deals to drown me
My memories of young life were left to me in such a way, stuck rather than cultured, and orphan
I whisper them to go away. In modern asylum, white walls with all the perks of white walls
I promised myself words like the sea. I promised myself mescaline and flowers
I camped at the rivers edge in rusty silt not knowing the direction of the current, but made a guess and thrust myself against it
Against all odds of peace, I wrote a letter about why life mattered and I threw it away
In the dreams that are rationed to me I enter and I am entered. Barely green eyes and drying lips, I don't sleep in an empty house and I am not empty, white walls dense with images
If it turns it'll never work, if it turns out the future is lavish brine with no material with which we are to build our shelter
I won't step in the same river twice, down future torrents with these unfaithful reflections. Like enormous pines growing out of the cement. Scattered lights like tiny watchmen: ready
