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COLLECTED CAPSULATED THOUGHTS BY ME. LAUREN.

1.

Fell into the spine of a book.

Where murmurs of regular circumstances became dried up petals of new life. 

Where one is born between the lines. 

A dictionary of photographs published in memory of life.

 A short life.

 A narrow passage.

 Now we live the chapters.

 Of miracles and mice. 

Quiet as a mouse.

 Blind as a bat. 

Clear as the key to my grandmothers blue print family tree draft.

 I live for you to take and let me be forsaken by your love for the cloudy goodness sleepy gods who offer that special significance of you. Only you.

 Wink Wink...

 I sink.

 My farewell sings a lullaby to all those who might have felt the need to catch some shut eye or complain to the listener next to you. 

Keep to yourself and remember what your intention in life was. 

Whimsical wankers sink in sewers!

2.

I TRAVELED BETWEEN TAKES.

i BECAME QUITE ILL AND FRAIL.

I GRABBED A ROCK AND BLEW A WISH WHICH TURNED TO DUST AND POURED A DISH. 

IF I MUST

I MUST FORGIVE

AND BE FORGIVEN TODAY

MOVE ON TOWARDS TOMORROW 

AND HAVE FOREVER SHAKES TILL THE BIRDS CHIRP AT SUNRISE.

KEEP TURNING THE PAGES OF THE SEAS. 

WHICH ATE THE WINDS.

WHICH ATE MY ONLY SORRY.

ANOTHER TOMORROW

AGAINST WHERE I'M SAILING 

ANOTHER DAY WHERE I FIND MIRRORS OF DAMNED DISTORTED MIRRORS.

MAYBE YOU NEED A CAT...

OR A DOG...

THEY REALLY ARE THE BEST.

3.

Thunderous cumulous clouds looming ten miles high, billowing over the horizon, thundering, electrifying, gravitating time. 

Illuminating memories of a wondrous afternoon. 

I miss the man who sold ice cream to the young lady in my day dreams.

 Pass that cone around. 

If you would just dip your blood in my mouth we could probably survive till tomorrow.

 As long as there is a metronome sitting faintly in the background.

 that would be a sanctified promise.

4.

I have this weird feeling that I am about to die.

Awkward as the weary eye,

following the empty seas.

A herd of sheep paving the way to another life.

Painful and quick the others burn the sticks.

This time It's real.

Fashion by the avenue.

Oh love.

Like chocolate or a dove.

Preferably a lovely melody along side a Monet painting or

Dead bones jangling to the electronic symbol of stardom. 

A ball of fire that spins with control.

Precisely formulated to collide with the moon and the sun spoken stars

 In an uncanny delivery of a thoughtful, crystallized successful design.

5.

cALLING MY NIGHT TO THE SOUND OF THE TRAIN. 

cATS PASS BY LIKE THE RICH DO INSANE. 

fILL ME A TANK FOR YOUR PENNIES SHINE A TUNE. 

a WITCH WITH A SPOON GIVE A TASTE, HOLD MY CAINE. 

Fortunate enough, hollow owls howl a roar with the wolves.

A soft salty sorrow lost and forgotten forever tomorrow. 

Hopeless and romantic, I keep myself cozy. 

I call it a night to the sound of the train.

TRY AND KEEP IT QUIET TONIGHT
SETTLE DOWN