11/08/18 in poems

there are days when we used speak
in the sideways galleries of our mind
the desperate faces of our fellow kind
rotating in the sepulcher that guided the way

but then there was a crash
and we felt ourselves guide
the way to be rash
in which we spared ourselves to the
next

we glared at our reflection
which shone against the mirror and the flicker
of the dying ember in our brier
tangled and weeping which snags the corners
of the fleeting ideas

if we only could see how the other saw the conversation
from the outside; a smirk;
an upturned mouth; sneaking a glimpse sideways

but then there was a crash
and we felt ourselves guide
the way to be rash
in which we spared ourselves to the
next

the depths of the rise scared us
rising depths to the fascination
glaring soulful remedy
medication

well versed in the secret lacking of
dismay
rising from the depths