Tall Tale Mind

The heart’s vicous cycle on my joyous situation
of my love being sent through the dim eye sight,
bleeding for her little twitches.
Suffering on top of the lack of frozen flakes I couldn’t bare to give, or cry.
Remembering the numb hands I keep,
for you to see the monument we seemed to have made.
The dress, the brightness of your back, and the stresses that still walks above my Jamie hair.
Harvesting the isolated tank, with the deep track,
creating long, overdue moments of the tall tale mind
summoning secrets to make the unrealistic time I grow for the rest of the rotton seeds of dreams to feel you.
Breathing your leftovers and breaking your fresh meals I could, or did love for you.
Time is dying, with my eyes dimly knowing,
the next will fall to every word I heard and the lips I know.