i stumble, and i crumble (this fortress fades)

when lashes slick with (rainorsweat,

it doesn't matter anymore)

Blink in my direction

(it was just my imagination,

just my imagination).

and Pictures of You

ricochet; making 90 degree angles

within the curves of my skull

and surfacing only

at that place hovering halfheartedly

between sleep and morning time-

and finding me awake &

licking strawberry flavored lips

(but, but i don't wear make-up).

i taste spun sugar the color of cotton

in my mouth and, and I sing

but Boy, for you, I would scream.