there's something underneath, descending consciousness
bitter and painstakingly unrelinquishable
but peaceful in the simplicity of everything you say
to ease some discomfort.
i can't even fathom
what it would be like in that aura,
falling and voluntarily struggling through boiling surfaces
every morning
and suffocating between the sheets.

it seems like forever
but i'll never know tomorrow
what transcends my sleeping eyes.

i'll shroud myself in your wisdom
as condescention screams itself into the ground
and then the rain will come
only to dry itself off again.
the road in front of these headlights,
i need so much
will be the final sigh of relief.