White noise

A cluttered mess.

Concepts overlapping.

Ideas leaking everywhere.

A mind full of static noise.

A blanket to keep us warm.

To keep us busy.

To keep us occupied.

Dramas painted onto the walls of our cities.

We derive ourselves from our melting sand castles.

Made of noise.

Nice face painting you have on.

But underneath that mask

We have nothing to hide.

Only lies.

Lies to cover with.

Lies to paint with.

But the underneath pierces.

point of interest

A point of interest
Waiting to poke through
Let these words splice through
Take aim..the white of their eyes..fire
Historian takes a glance
I build a fire
Inside this ever unquenchable body
Push through the corridors
Flicker then a flash
Let the light pierce the filter
Until it all falls through
Nothing left to hold back
Tears of joy splash back
Hair whipping in the wind
A riptide pulls us all out
Moment by moment
Crack of dead silence
Then it all boils down
Breath at full potential
Coast apparent
Roll around the loop de loop
Every kindred spirit is a flame
A scent carried through time
To transcend our bodies
And pull us out of the ashes
Come full circle
Dust to dust recycled bones
Melding of the senses
Out casting your shadow
Its all we become
Now a rusty nail
A point of interest
Waiting to poke through