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Washes of Hues (Workshop Edition)
Folder:
2025 Washes of hues confuse
the binge of sound.
Noises in the head scrape
against the colors
in the brain,
the din maddening,
deafening the need
to think.
Thoughts rise undulating in her mind,
dancing tauntingly 'til
she can't take it anymore.
They did that.
They made her crazy.
They made her crazy
so that one night she just flew,
it wasn’t a long flight,
just a gesture to the wind
and she was gone.
Metronome of maestros
pound in her brain,
not-right-not-right
(take-flight-take-flight)
the hues can’t erase
the swirling water-tones
of pigment
she see inside her eyes,
sepia yellows, grayed blues,
shadows begging for a palette,
knife.
Sleep eludes, scrapes
the brain
washes tints to
form
the gone-ness of time
on the tempered paper
of her mind.
"Pantry lines"
lines to save that were taken out to either save or control-delete when my core says its ok
Quiet little harbingers,
Quiet little aches of loss,
Constant affection, disaffection
In truth,
Blurred the hues
that scraped the mind
That binged the brain
in metronomes of sound
all around.
All resound
To drive her crazy.
The pattern on his jacket,
Buried tear stained face,
