Moth Harris Poems
Comments about Moth Harris
#100 - Faction
It's the ghost in the mirror, the shadow in the corner of the room.
The cascading thoughts that drift through my mind so steadily.
It breaks and scrapes, takes away, again, again, another day.
It's where you are, what you've become, darkness.
It's a memory that rests in me, the forgotten, the fools.
Old weapons, just tools. A broken butter knife, made of plastic.
The sense of things that do not condence,
A mirror with no reflection, the blindness of night.
Light or dark has no preception of wrong or right.
Blue In Your Eyes
I look in your eyes
They're faded now
and to my surprise
The sun won't rise
It's jaded now
I've played it out
Inside of my thoughts
I'm always here