Some shed tears of crystals
- but not me.
I spill melted plastic.
Recycled fears
pooled by a lighter.
Don't let my gray eyes fool you -
They will burn too,
along with my heart,
that we pretend is gold.
But no, its plastic.
When I am heated
my crying kills the ocean.
How far can you go when your walls are so close? Corner to corner. Cheek to cheek. Before you know it - there goes another week. Closed...
Could there be more than just butterflies in my stomach? Like skeletons buried deep, deep in a forgotten place? Deeper than my shallow...
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