…bass drum

One year is subjective

blue bird

flaming mythics

got me questioning

why don’t they

read me

read me

listen at least

my words are resting

way onwards

in this life

and the next

and the next

and the ones before

I’m rusty

I’m in a cocoon

always liked the dark

at my final quest

don’t worry I’m twitching

fire in fountains

blood shot eyes

dark circles

and love in waiting

I’m honest and true

lonely now

so always struggling

with these embers

long cold and spreading

piece by piece

chiselled softer

tired and under

black and purple

like time travel that

grips me harder

than those eight tentacles

wrapped and rapping

like a nutcase

repeating thoughts

repeat thoughts

repeated ideas

fly anywhere

with this bass drum

that I’m pretty sure

was and is

someone’s heart

just not mine.

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