Wide of the Mark

Sometimes hit,
sometimes missed;

Enemy of in between, I do not trust oblivion

6.29.15 Drop of June

Mistake
mixed up fate
listen closely
this might be important
whispers
turn to screams
smudging the edges
cracking the mirror
blonde ambition
the roots are starting to show
two fingers
of all that’s left
pour me another
inch of courage
I swallowed the last
drop of June
spring is gone
awake in August
don’t stay here and waste
your life
take the flight
shake the sick bag dreams
a yellow butterfly
blink of eye
in arms reach
shaking a cough
shaking bad vibe
along for ride
just like a shadow
away from formula
separating mouth from nipple
I’ve no lungs
but I’m breathing in deep
fresh air
take me where
I am to depart
just one more
to ease my sore
to inch me more complete