This year’s mind
Comatose
The self-delusive heart
Dying on a page
From overdose
Of love,
Hands washed
In others’ wounds
Fingerpaints, red
To blacken the shiny night
Dripping on our flesh
Share nature’s bed
This year’s mind
oblivious
The dirt under the nails
Mainly shed skin
Sleep, says Morpheus
Dream now
Eyes sewn shut
Eyeballs choking on tears,
Figures of the subliminal
In your dusty vortex and
Twisted imagination
Create a life that’s unconditional
P-chan (c) 2010
