Def Con 3

the tissue box sits empty amidst
a wasteland of wadded, wasted
tears shed for an unknown
plane of fears you've never witnessed
in all your years and

when your dog pees on the bills
that are on the floor and you
don't care anymore
you know

your Faberge world
fell down in flames
on that yellow morn

your Faberge world
lives on in
coffee table books

not in real life
anymore

the closet is a mess
from all your photographed quests
trying to put back all the pieces
of a life
that's smoldering
in dusty seas

gum wrappers and grit on your feet
meet apathetic broken feelings
ripped away without consent
so you take cover inside
that gingham tent
again

because your Faberge world
fell down in flames
on that yellow morn

your Faberge world
lives on in
coffee table books

not in real life
anymore

[and you can't seem to remember it anymore]

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