You sing through my brain
and I write at your mercy…
You cling to my pain
and allight controversy…
You seem so alive
yet are likely a ghost…
A dream to deprive me
precisely; a most
diaphanous shred
of something denied me…
Blasphemous bed
with nothing inside me…
In grinding charades
I observe nothing squalid…
Been dining on shades
but deserve something solid.
Written by Jason Wright
May 30, 2018