Monday, September 29, 2014

Business Grief.

Even though you place
the plastic crown on your head,
the thoughts still leak in.
You binge on self awareness.
You still, self aware mess.
And you'll still abuse your body because of it.
Waking up and noticing
that the water is deleted
from the map on the wall.
Walking down a lonely alley,
stooping to pick up a piece of paper.
Written in lavender ink,
You keep telling yourself 
you are nothing
and you will be nothing.
I'll dance.
I don't give a shit I'll dance.