Words

Time becomes continuous…. Dimensions become consensual… as the obvious becomes visual… and the words we speak reach critical… the emergency drop to trivial… and  less becomes more… torn, ripped, and jammed between now and then… the past becomes import..ant imported souls blowing away like anatomical dust… dark fairy like… running away… scary like… words won’t mean a thing in time commenced and beginning will feel like forever… silence will seem like heaven as word burn like hell…

The future will be like jail… locked up in a room full of lies and the those deceit full cries from a family member you thought you knew… the darker the thoughts the louder it spoke… the deeper it cut… the steeper it stuck… struck by the lighting and poisoned by the rain… pain will seem immense… rinsing your hands in mine and drying them off on there’s… pairs become quads and single becomes impossible… as the words wont’ mean a thing in time…

Rhyming will be a crime unseen by many and dressed in pretty blue and red lines… thrown in books and put on the highest shelf were even the most stealth person could read it… understanding velvet pronouns laid on silk prepositions followed by golden adjectives apprehensive to what they once said as words are now becoming dead…