I had a dream that I was in a nocturnal garden of trees and all their branches had lighted mason jars hanging from their limbs,
and so was I hanging from my own limbs.
nude in color
and etched into my veins was the sense of returning again to peace
I cradled these jars of light like a newborn babe
but it was I that was darkened
it was I that was jade.
seeking for rays of light to pour within me
I was only as lonely as the distance I felt from home
the comfort in a dwelling is so compelling and I never really appreciated the ambiance of my own
it should never take for someone to pick up the phone to see how I am doing
the answer will forever me desperate and alone
so this garden of trees....
that are alive and inanimate
they shall motivate me to hike every hill of my uncertainty
be free in maturing
I presume the noon is just a sign that today is another day to get yourself in line
I hidden in the negativity of my own reasoning
vexation and despondency
prospect is cursory
if I never jilted we would still be functioning on
nothingness
yes I
I incorporated the significance of a meager of car dates into my existence
because those are my kryptonite
it about time I do it right
I must do this for the sake of my mind
I must live by the light //E.B.
YOU ARE READING
DIRTY LAUNDRY
Poetryjust another underrated poetry book, a poetic photograph of the saddest months of my life from Jan 2016- May 2016 ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
