dusty -- not good or anything. forced writing at a time when i was tired and felt like shit.

i think you think my mind is a flower bed 

where you can plant your little bouquet and 

let your stone roses die. 

my eyes wave at you 

what with them knowing where you are

and wanting you to know that i adore you. 

last may when the rain came 

i was thawing out 

in the… fuck you

i want to live in secrets 

so i can be in your life

and roll myself in carpets 

till you notice how dusty my life has become.