incarcerated in the brown folds of my irises
while I steal glances at twittering birds
and sit on solemn benches
dissolving in unnoticed familiarity.
I pick up the feelings
that onlookers lost along the way.
They forgot how to experience them
because the world doesn't give a dime about how you feel.
In the startle of the day's equinox
where my dark and light match up together
and fit each other like the pieces of a puzzle
I stay in its homily learning about life.
My fingers feel frostbitten
even though I'm summer's child
and my skin is lined with its golden coating
that is supposed to protect me from harm
and sting rays of people's animosity.
swaying in delusions
of reaching my pinnacle
with vague radiance and wrinkled serenity
living in the ecstasy of my origami soul.
In this world that feeds off elegance and impression
I'm a graceless bird that will find its way home in the end.
The night calms me in its dreamy pallor
when the world sleeps
and I record my terminology in flimsy syntax.
Music echoes its beats in the blemished walls of my heart
and I secretly light up in its afterglow.