And so I crumble in my own jaw line
Leaking from the iris,
A stoned mahogany stuck
Beneath the frivolous sky,
I lie like a pond, open and scarred,
Rummaging through your eyes,
To seek something that belongs to my lip.
I fail the second day as well.
My mind talks pills and potions
A volatile adamant touch of burps.
A ripple lost and secured.
My mind is insane, forever.
Devika Mathur blogs at https://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com/