brain bombarded with visual stimuli,
My mind blanked out for some respite,
information harlot on information overload,
too many stories ,too eager to be told.
I find solace in my solitude , despite
your melancholy sound - it ignites,
visual flashbacks no longer finite.
the fights, the spite , yet trite delight.
My rhyme probably has no flow,
it’s inconsistent but not hollow,
I never learned to spit,
So I always swallow.
I articulate the things that are fleeting,
and magnify them to a soul treatment.
I listen to every version of your song,
you ask me to show you how I’m strong,
So I sink into your serenade,
pinstriped ceramic grenade,
the melody escalades,
the memory it never fades
as it punctuates our charades.
we’re laid, sublime haze,
days of retrograde.