johnny_panic

Penny pinchers fragmented pulse a
new design for a deviance. I've kept
metronome time, a stop watch statistic
to hold my breath by.

I dreamt of a sheet, white and clean to
wrap the edges of arms and held back
hands. To brace the gears and mutilate
the moments of my ticking mind.

There in the back door of my brain, held up by a
frame thick and calm, a motion to
loose for manic lips to kiss. A reference
a reason, a rat running lengthwise against
the base boards to the grate.