It's All Philosophy Maybe ...-Amy Everett

In a state of puddles
drip, drip,dripping
Never quite drowning
Never really knowing
Placid sunshine through clouds rot
Seep , cracking in my seat
Playground creak
As I step through cement wet around my feet
Walk forward
Suspend time
Purple glass
Santa mask
Behind locked hallways
my corridors
You think you see me
I have you fooled
Nursery rhythms and transformers
Screams and terror
I believe you can't see it all
Behind scarred pupils
Erect from combustion
Lights gleaming
I am dancing
In this cage of hope she keeps me drunk in
The blood and sweat of time
Emotions pour like
Puddles, drip, drip, ripping me apart one by one
Maybe she will steal all of my pretty personalities away
oh, my Sybil creates more
I am not crazy ...No...
They put themselves on me
I carry them
Yet I lie here alone with there travesties
mistook them for Royalties
Tears flood the sanctuary
Creating what always seems to be,
Broken arms
of clocks that can't tell time
Wasted a hundred million days of shame
I laugh
Was I not pretty enough
Is that why they stare?
Shallow hallways
I am safe
They think they know
But they don't
Eyes shut , and open all at the same time
Better keep your distance
Movies weren't meant for black and white....
So Aphrodite was she such a whore?
Or did they just push down doors....
Dripping, dripping ....Puddles .......
On brown Iris floors......