Poetry for lost

I think too much. I write too much. I try to understand myself too much. I’m too complicated to understand myself. So I’ll try to not.

This is kind of follow up from my last post, Moods part II – the poetic version. It make sense…

Time by passed and over again
Always again as ever before
Hollow cup of coffee
Never here seems to already exist
Unknown friends itching backwards
We travel through skin and bone
I can see the back of my head
I see white on black
I can’t find my bed
Someone stole my hat I have no pillow

… ghosts have no shadows. And are only visible for mirrors when nobody looks in it. Dreams are like water

I really like pigeons

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s