Institution

Rotten and dry marrow colliding

like earth plates, the married curses.

Sealed together by the ages' stance

A cold survival mixed up by suspicion

Exiler of solution

A frequent nesting punter's roll

of sanitarium's laughter

I owned a pair of matching socks

the other one died faster

A happy ending to frayed understanding

the single oar

to row the boat

Every day is just another match spent

On cigarettes i've given up for lent

Every night is my suspended spine

silhouetted in a room of fire

Your eyes are folding through the rays

the dark sun is pale

Your body echoed through the rain

In image swallowed by chronophage

Cup the moonlight to keep it safe

I can never try to relate

to the incessant troubling makes me dissapate

work in progress inspired by freuds iceberg theory

A broken vase sits on my daze
With whiskey and wilting flowers gaze
Couldn't see it fall in the first place
The setting sun shadows my face

Shattered stones on a cold land
Far, and in an underground din
Branches bending on their own weight
Frightened visions run a hare's pace

I could see little from here
In shade of light, nothing comes clear
I looked back as my mind dined
Sought to change what I can't find

Stems bowed glass like

Sharp, flat, white, horizon
Grey zones, here and there
A shadow growing, a tower
I am sinking forwards

Formless turtles, forgetful shells
Time lay back, aside
In and out, dragging breath
Star maps have swallowed the sun's appeal

Far away, a crunching, flattening
Whipping, heaving and rolling loads
by torn out eyes
and screaming faceless figures

The sun is setting fast on the day's gloom
Posing on the palm of the hand
Creeping on a cushion in the bright room
Nowhere to go anywhere

Jumping, playing tennis in the country
Fireballs thrown very far
Thinking of a place I need to get soon
Seeing the life going dry

Cold in the snow. Beautiful picture
Nobody knows my name

No such thing as safety

After unwinding
Were tired and delighted
Sleep, as it's Sunday
Everything is easy

Think about Monday
Put it on the back burner
Whats the point of it all
Nothing here is everlong