Days bunch up in weeks, collaborate months against me.
|
The sheets are stained with evidence that our remains are now, drifting away.
|
|
I share with complete strangers my most personal of pleasures.
|
I scribble tidbits of useless mind info- trash, treasure.
|
Spend hours, at my leisure, like sharpened precise tweezers.
|
|
Shifting through in the frame by frame
|
I walk the same path
|
I'll say the same lines
|
I do this every time
|
Do this every time
|
|
Dodging armpit stench aromatic
|
Wrapped up in my own self-induced stress panic
|
I think I am the only one in this shifting through
|
|
They'll collaborate in months against me.
|
|
-----------------
|
Frame By Frame
|
| The Honorary Title |
