Videos shoot images into my mindOf sharp lines scratched into the edge
Create a jagged separation between light and dark
No poetry to describe the harsh outlines in and outside
As nausea creeps up your neck and water pulls you in
Definition seems useless in a fight to recreate what was
And all that's left is broken dreams and waving hands goodbye.
What you say is beauty is nothing but loss
Something slowly entering into it's last stages
As I think these things, I am reminded by strings and songs
"And there's a joy, a joy in all I can see
A joy, in every possibility."