dryspell

still waters
murky bubbles float too slow to the top
roller coaster breaks down right before the drop
the jailhouse songs have stopped
because everyone’s been in the chair.

baby blue skies
clouds spread too thinly over the breadth
the flower shop’s open but the doors are locked
we turn the trees upsidedown to mop
because everyone’s bored of breathing the air.

and too busy to care

and too full to feed

and too dead to want

and too smart to need
































and too proud to bleed