Your destructions-
All over the fact
The "over" affect sinks in
Over and over again.
I imagined u occupied, taken by my words, retracing my steps;
Thinking about movies
Where these things are common.
-catapulted into broken
sound, conjured limbs
And a breathe left
Only one for death.
Then I dreamed that everything had static; fate, existence, love, stability, the seasons even;
Ever so sensitive
And drawn by the wrath in trees
And the righteousness of it.
And that this static was the thread,
in a fine line
In an otherwise fine world.
Doomed and peculiar.
I am left to simply incline on being a diadem
In the hand of our God.
But if there is a heaven
Where the early birds feast
And I have a date to appear
I'm not gonna wanna talk to any of you
Atleast not cohesively
For a while.