the sky is gray
like a razor blade
peeling layers away
digging deeper
leaving furrows
in the freshly laid silt
another riverbed
of self destruction
another vase of roses
left to wilt

close the blinds
blinded to the truth
blended into slush
bland
tasteless
tactless

the gray sky
like a razor blade
severed optic nerves
flop
like downed power lines
arcing
dancing
like a corpse
unaware it is dead
violet flashes
of violence
violins
with broken strings

perhaps

mine
is the only love
you’ll never know
the seed
never planted
the stone
at the bottom

of the river

and that god damned sky
gray
stainless steel insolence
as i sit
rusted beneath
weather worn
discarded
with the rest of the tools
destined
to be cast away
after the building is built
on a foundation of silt
the roses left to wilt

beneath
the razor blade skies