| Jars | |
Strand up tall, try not to tip admire my shiny gloss see the handicraft of my maker try to keep the world inside that sweet liquid bottled up My hands like a spout tip me over and... keep it inside Look over the edge droplets form together pushing their way toward the front as his eyes burn into me almost tasting that which I keep locked up racing racing to the spout trying to break free and expose me to my enemy stop stand up admire my shiny gloss see the handicraft of my maker there is nothing inside the candle eyes go out and I am left dark The sun comes out with millions of faces interlaced in the clouds gleaming down on my smooth round sides admiring but they want more they want every drop everything I have everything I hold secret my innermost person the treasure locked up inside the caverns of these glassy blue curves find a lid to keep... flys away? the clouds turn grey and scatter empty canvas I sit on a windowsill at the edge of the world looking down onto a dusty road liquid fermenting and staining perfect white ceramic walls familiar voice breaks into my solace thirsty looking up on my dusty dull shell I cough, a million paint chips flying from chapped lips lid rattling insides sloshing all dried up, I say there is a well around the corner A hand reaches out taking me from my sill a sleeve moves particles of dust revealing worn blue coat reflecting curious eyes slowly bending insides stirring want to hold back but voice is hoarse world is expecting drops race to my spout, faster and faster gathering teams together and moving slowly toward their future faster and faster, the one in the lead rounds the bend and holds on let one last finger slip off the edge And I am free Water flows from the edge where reason meets potential and drops off the edge into beautifull dreams Spilling myself onto the page I am free |