The struggle

Try telling a secret in this room
actually not reading minds, possibly not seeing ghosts.
An attempt to blend in, fade away,
chew before swallowing...

Try making love with your eyes open
or getting drunk out of empty bottles of vodka, just with its letters
or fitting in those pants you wore on your first date.
Things like that are on my mind today.

Looking over my shoulder
to catch the one whose laughter's following me
breathing on my forehead and smiling
there's no children
there's no infinity
black holes, black holes
and activists against black holes
offering free hugs by the red light.
Things like that are on my brain like bugs, it's devastating.

Tomorrow's friday
I want to erase the world by then. Have something to mourn.
So as not to seem so helplessly lost
almost as if recreating the prophecies.

Shit like that is what I'm hidding from.
Thats why I cant look up
I have no reports for you tonight.