Cartoon Campfire

This is the parallel room that I keep my heart in. Got a solo fireplace. I don't want to invite anything else into the story. It doesn't matter if no one knocks on the door ever again. I'm too shy to hope for much more than a couple of

Interesting shadows between the raining teardrops outside anyway. I don't mind. It's not too bad. I did the best I could to make a work of art out of the corruptable birds outside my window, for you. I must admit when you tore down the curtains and

Wrapped them around yourself I thought you were only making a fashion statement not a diversion. I didn't get the allusion for the longest time. Now I feel like something has straightened out, has happened in here, but it

Could be just a crack in the light finally settling in. It could be the crack is in my own head. I HEAR BAGPIPES. They're not a joyful sound to me, but a lament and a plea for some return to sanity and sea. The ocean has a mighty

Pull even this far out from heaven. Oh I'm pretty sure they don't want the likes of me in there, I've got too many questions. I'd be the first one to ask why all the sorrow, when such a little bit goes a long way? I'd be

Thrown out with all of my poems fluttering behind me like artificial tears, artificial petals, artificial butterfly wings. Yes, it's going to be a long fall back down to the ruined ground. Like heavy blankets

Crumpled in the corner, no one is going to want to have to lift them up all by themselves. I can't say I blame them. I made my escape. I won't give up now. I could always feel it in my throat you know, the path was on

A forever trajectory and I was stapled to it by a million stars. I'd like to share a cigarette with a comedian. I can't give it up. That's all I know for sure. The rest is like pulling yourself through a small

Cluster of STICKER bushes, you don't have a choice if you want to sing an authentic existence sONG. Don't worry, I see the irony there. You're damned if you do and lonely if you don't. The skeletons dance regardless of the

Faces you'll make to clear yourself. But what they say on eye television is not what we should ever see in real life. You mustn't be quiet. Whatever it is it doesn't matter, but to me, for me, I've always treasured what no one else could seem to

Hear. And inside that wonderful landscape of impertinent noises I found you dancing like a mythical faun around a splashing fountain of youth. I could no more give up that dream than give up breathing for a