Pockets full of nothing

An icy dagger through a bird’s beak
Betrayal working its magic
Swallowing the sun

Who would’ve known
That awareness would hide behind the unseen
The rest, punctured, cuddled up in a heap

I know it means a lot to you
Your input in every move there is to freeze
Cracked ribs, broken knees

Jambled up within tragedy
I find the paper plane return to its station
Fingers painted with stains, ablaze

I don’t get how, the swinging chair lost its friction
Over slippery floors, worked up boards
And you thought you outsmarted the rest on chess, them being color blind, you unable to perceive sight

By betting it all, becoming a millionaire
Hands nothing but strangers, to pockets full of nothing
   A peacemaker starting a riot

Dust in my eyes
Louder than words, an epiphany
Stoning my demons to death


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This right here, keeps me sane. You will find here, sincere thoughts mixed up with a subconscious trying to fuck it all up. I hope you understand.

6 thoughts on “Pockets full of nothing”

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