i am not drunk
look
it’s just that the flowers hold no colours
for night
leaving loneliness to bloom
with those things left still unsaid
since the time of creation
where even then in closed eyed nothingness
i missed you
and couldn’t see you growing up
into that beautiful woman
who would
ask more questions for that was the answer
who would
find longing in the pebbles and star-stuffed sand
who would
one day go wherever it is in that place
where i didn’t go
like the snow now
breathing back into the world
a scent of my piss-poor courage
that tries to drown everything
in a territorial roar
yet only manages to miss on myself
as a little bit of it all
but still
not enough
for you
Mizpellt wurdz 
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