Dosage

June 30, 2013

I stretched each finger through an electric socket,

I tried to get my old bones moving.

See, when I'm looking out through the in

I get these ideas that stick or pin.

I put them up on a dry wall in this broken home—

I see them hang for dear life.

When you beg the question

I bang my head around waiting for nonsense;

we share a commonality.

A disregard for nationality.

The frames get crooked and the wear gets to tear

and

i'm sorry the paint chips never really recollect.

i'm making a spitting image so I can say I've found some kind of truth.

Please check your pocket watch and give me a date.

write it in the books.

I don't want medicine,

I want you,

because when it all comes crashing down

i'll separate the sentiment from a dose.

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