Buried at half mast

Debt clouds clear

Photogenic flumes slow dance to a calm

Careful shudders fly in the face of a brand new day

Patch work expressive tunes bead along the scenery

Patience living on the border of neglect

Unlocked trunks reveal the dear, and departed in transit their souls explode into a slow dance of butterflies waiting for some fresh air on this drive.

Exhales exhume the vaulted daymares of skeleton kids doing the ballet on both their wrists.

Candles light up eyes that have long to see dreams unfold in perpetual sunrise.

Bone scars where their mouths were sutured shut.

Smiles still evident as hope lingered on like an inside joke that could not be killed

Belief buried in these bones where others just sang somber songs of death

Siphoned love soaked in the bones that were intended for real children wasting the good surprise out of obligation.

Joyless triumphs haunt themselves long after the long drink of depravity, ghouls that hide in plain vanilla skies, sightless murderers of time. 

The low flow from chains cemented in basements of hollowed sons slide from interiors, and into the deep with the faultless abyss guilty of being able. 

Full honors as new fresh skin revealed as we swam from the gasp-less house fires that we grew up in.

Tasting the wheel as the remains fold in symmetry fit for a proper funeral.

Holding fast we forget the turn.

Reanimated cartoons of the rise and fall of whose fault it is re-run on the trunks interior.

The pedal feels the floor and the tree line invites the band.

Flames embrace where the turn failed

Gasoline flows over

We stand in awe as past lives litter this afternoon scene

Dirges play on as the butterflies flicker in and out as the dear, and compartmentalized litter their story on high

The paintings melt

The tear drops boil

The bones crumble

We were dead on arrival