Can't block it out any longer
This sunburned soul pushes white pain when touched
Imagination is less fearful than my steps
Living inverted under scrutinized reflections
When alone the noise is deafening
These stories and connections and explanations
Stopped by the rims of locked lips
And arthritic fingertips
Surrounded by ticking sticks of timekeepers
Weighty days slashed off the calendar
Seasons morphing change into displays
Direction, production, motivation, release
Are silent waving ripples in my glass each night
They slowly pantomime farewells
And balance steady into withdraw a liquid grave
The words that no one ever hears spoken
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