they say-
that even the gods would weep.

I know they say this.
them. there in their lives.
whispering goodmorning and goodbye
by candlelight- thinking their
moments of peaceful ponderings
are internal.

piecing apart the parts and particles.
particularly- I'm thinking of being
and believing.
as deceiving.

if I were screaming.
they would hear. and when I'm dreaming.
they're here. born between blinks.
and breathing the beats of my heart-
I'm just a being. sentient as the scent
of misleading medians.

I'd bleed a river
-drink. thinking of abstract quivers of thought
and the mountains form while my eyes
twitch. licking likewise contradictions.
I am that which I conflict.


and they blink when my lips speak.
dawn brings death. weep for me.
they scream with their might.
tonight. they're born.


and I dream
them into being.

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