I am not sure what makes it good,

or if it is, or will be or

has been, already.

or why I like reading it back, sometimes

and it doesn’t make sense other times,

or why we spend the time, in kingdoms.

Were better off keeping it all, keeping everything outside, in kingdoms.

With the creeping black dread that if your not careful you’ll slip on

and the creeping clack clouds that if your not careful you’ll slip on

never being able to sit still,

and always changing my tune,,

to match the colors behind me,

getting my hopes up,

to match the colors behind me.

The fleeting thoughts, they bleed through, and remain permemant,

visible on my hands days and days later.

We keep all of that outside,

with the dogs who are relatively unknown ,

with that one light that is always out,

and the sweetest songs and the winds and dial tones,

they are sold out, outside too.