Day 1

that silent satan
curled underneath our flip flop feet
carry us to the edge
that ennui hung over the eaves of our homes
seeping through the crevices of your roofs
weights closing eye lids
when reality wasn’t up to par
we went to sleep
and constructed architecture
How deep can you sigh
before inhaling this whole realm?
then spitting it out
How loud can you pause
before the silence is noticed?
How can you float above in disinterest
and be invested, yet objective
how can you spend your life
most of your waking moments in your head
the other half dreaming in your bed?
When will be the time you woke up?
and walk on the shores of the Mediterranean
and felt the warmth of a woman’s hands?
and wait at a terminal for an unknown destination?
and held the hand of a wrinkled and terminal patient?
haven’t we been patient far too long?
you can’t strait jacket me

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