Monday, March 18, 2013


Imagine if our fate was set 
and we had a year to live, 
Could we live in our own composed symphony, 
etch a sketch of a new perception 
and snuggle up in it?
Disengage in our reality
furling ourselves up into our own subjectivity, 
slowly slipping into the small abyss of our own ideas of intimacy

Could you pretend with me, 
Pretend that we're the only ones who know the facts of the universe:
Conspiring to conspire,
Revolt against past desires, 
Retract our instincts and in an instant
become invincible.

In a tiny shell we'll wait and decay, 
Pretending it's ok to hide away from  callings, 
getting more tangled up in the ways in which we'll sway,
Our conclusions and decisions that will make our doubt fade away;
that unsettling infinite that stops us from believing that we matter, 
just wrapped up in cotton, warping what's important, 
Trying to forget the forgotten.