The truth about midnight. {12:00}

November 14, 2011
By AshTaylor BRONZE, Roslyn, New York
AshTaylor BRONZE, Roslyn, New York
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The truth about midnight. {12:00}

Harsh lines, rough tides, poetic slaps, fading into memories, of colors bleeding and still.
In the night, and within the absence of life, sleeping alone, in the life pre-owned.
In the lone, and on our own, she calls the line to find it dead, ten years since
Cigarette butts, and a pill too many, washes salt from the oceans, and tears cannot find tracks.

Judgments fulfilled, with memories obligated, calls to the grave, and telling lost lullabies
No more than she said, was goodbye.
And at the end of the river, were stories not told
lives gone before yet to unfold
and somewhere in the tide and the papers scattered with harsh lines and Woman! Looked.
To see stars falling from across her balcony,
and was reminded.

The truth about daybreak. {12:01}

Rage is pure and love manufactured so sad was they day that came before the day after
Anger lies cause dreams are forbidden
this overlooked tide and with whom can we confide, the dreams we left behind, ten years since.
In the chaos lies; out of corporate body out of my mind.
Dial tones blinking red enemies
And the little one finds it hard to say goodbye
To her dreams, and everything’s obscene and why are our life’s so---clean

Tears with color staining the truth, but its all lies anyway.
And trees-two-by-two with deep twisting roots, have split up the seams of ---
What is going on today {families are splitting up but its okay}
And what is reminded from yesterday and why is the earth invisible and why are we so convincible. Is it okay, if I say, that I’m afraid
And in tomorrow, if we could see through our own sorrow we could find hope in the tears that shed themselves onto the oncoming breeze.
And we will be reminded.

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