Untitled.

I can feel for your family
And I can feel for my own
A strand of paper hearts
Hanging limp around the room
I can see your head hung
Below them
Whispering to yourself
That you hope it
Isn't the way it feels
Only the way it looks
I can feel one too many eyes
Watching
From all corners
Of the circular room
I am speechless
Its an output
Just an output
Ill tell stories
As you tell your own
Speak over me
Your louder than the rest
I would allow you to speak forever
If you actually spoke words
I would allow you to tell me
What its like to live inside your mind
What its like to dance alone
To music you cant hear but you can feel burning into your soul
Branding you like a calf destined for nothing but to feed a man who doesn't need to be fed
Somewhere in the vast expanse of a Texas ranch
Where the clouds hang low and the bushes are the trees to those who have never seen an evergreen
I would allow you to burn me if I weren't afraid of fire
And if you only knew how to strike a match
I would allow you to tell me stories of all the ghosts you met
Flying overhead
Screaming for someone to see them
In the foggy white void of your mind.