The ugly side of pain cuts our eyes open
until we cry so hard we start to smile.
And our entire bodies become tremors
until we’ve calmed down
and our clothes need readjusting.
I’m still looking for the flawless
through restless nights that were steeped like a tea
where the dreams drove me off cliffs
over and over again
until I woke up.
I don’t want to be in this mind,
where it’s like time gives up its sands
into an hourglass that doesn’t catch what passes through,
it only vaguely records what passes by,
and at first glance it all passes for what thought we knew more about.
This frequency delivers shockwaves of misjudgement
where houses get torn apart
and the cities are all we have left to turn to,
like some self-fulfilling prophesy
that keeps us all whispering when it’s dark.