Produced By Rhys Langston
Next time i look in that mirror
The past should float off
Wings cracked through my back
All debts wrote off
I want to embrace the “I”
While the arms wrap around “me”
Direct objection to
A mind’s municipal court fee
No more syntax for broken reason
Hiding feelings
Depression turned to self-abstraction
A par for the course of healing
Though
Stripped my politics by screwing them too tight
I found an insecure fixture obscuring
Sense of right
(reflections for a fly-by-night)
————
Oh to breathe slow as to open
These hinges gaslit, washed, frozen
But breaking clichés will not earn you tokens
You must learn that
————
Next time i look in that mirror
The past should float off
But i’m a coward and maybe
I should fuck off
To think a history can be
Disembodied
That’s playing a self
Pre-shuffled card hobby
You see, i was indebted
To a mind’s manufacture
And i’m a great factory worker
Child of two actors
On the assembly line
My scrambled parts
Compartmentalized actions
Toward others’ hearts
(cope by hiding it in art)
————
My inner comment section
Fed by these headlines
They vocalize as my other selves
Line up for indicted crimes
Heights in all
Reflections for a fly-by-night
And i feel small
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