Stream of Consciousness

you could be so beautiful
if only you would try...

striped the walls in grey and blues
thought your mind could take a fall
and wrong I was, wrong we were,

come again when the days come
light and early,
when dawn breaks at noon

take a yellow one to touch the sun
in your blackened mind,

along the edge of darkened rooms
to wonder at an empty space,
fill the world with walls,
fill those walls with words
and kill what won't conform

In the end you've got you
and the time
could only matter in your lonely, logical ends.

Sitting up nights with circles growing darker under ocean eyes,
told the night to give it a try,
sleep comes hard when one can't speak,
words come hard when that sleep is weak

I'll write you a poem if its the last thing I do...