His thought process

In the depth of one’s thought process

Anger glazed into his left heart

Canceling out the imperfections

Fallen over this delicate ribbon

What more could he want

For words are facts of the cross

That walks into pleasurable cause

Strong will but in love

Dreams peel back his white glove

Sight the pause of freedom

Quarter the time of weakness

Because it won’t always be so easy

The arms of this imperfection

Shakes happiness out of his sinful promises

In the depths of one’s thoughts       

The emptiness seeps into a gasping heart

Opening up grays of addiction

Curling affliction

Weeping in permission

Let the doubts of yesterday steel

Wheeling his beating impulses to the core of loneliness      

Author's Note

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