Brew

Image of severity,

I have displaced all your clarity.

Forbidden beings thrive.

Where am I inside that mind?

Naked conjurings of wishful thinking:

I foresee you drowning;

now, you're drinking.

Rock me to sleep,

I'll peek at your face.

Wasted lyrics taunt.

I'm no longer tired,

and now you're distraught.

Fearful tellings of youthful elegance,

Let me come; I'll watch your dance.

There's the sway,

the sway of her skirt:

the color changes of a face of hurt.

-Hannah Schoeneman