THISISJOHN

there we are
all graceful
in images and
unending horizons
talking in strings
i can only talk
in synths with
glass cords
why am i limited
and you so un?
i am lost in
the hollow pain
accountable to one
lest i not forget
how dark this hole
really is and deep
it drags me through
and through, where
i am not allowed
to sleep, wasted
i have yet to be
a fool for the last time