it's raining, it's hailing your dark heart is paling
arteries extending,
you're thawing, they're clawing
into circulation
test patience of cages and ages
your distance
your conscience
is cultivating something more than you're feeling
you're reeling and retching
quickening sickening
a lost megapixel
lending a missing picture
to fix her
a task which cannot be done

you're a vulture of unheard pop-culture
trying and sighing
to be one of the standardized cool to keep sanity
although it's merely vanity
nobody knows of your rhymeless prose
it's the absent rhythm
that you miss in your mind
overlooking
overbooking
appointments without the time

for that which you pine
may not align
in your words and your stature
research nomenclature
categorise and fantasise you forget
your unhappiness
is non existant
but you're clinical and cynical and
miss the words
and punctuation and reside on the reserve
if you don't play the game
you can't win
but then you won't lose