it is you that I tend to hide myself in

like a box.

by you, i mean everyone

anyone including myself

it is you that i’ve gone on to describe

day and night.

i am destined to isolate myself

further and further

the cause for my thoughts

is locked away in the temple of you.

i can only open myself up to you

in this playful format of words

to me, you have become

less and less intelligible.

Your resolution is low,

burnt out like a bulb

it is the you in this sentence

that goes without saying,

that must come clean

and allow me to see


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Writer, aspiring farmer and homesteader in North Georgia, making ends meet and trying to become more enlightened.

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