Plywood And High-Chairs Poem by Jeph S. Walker

swirling feeling
floating in a sea of spontaneity
reflections of insides land so uncertainly
flesh presented in a maner
so mezmerizing
cleverly spewing words
i could myself never jamble together
broken lines of thoughts
stream through the caseing
beneath my forehead
i am unable to piece them togther
and finish the lines
i am unable to pierce into you
and claim your heart for my own
once it has already started
sliping through my fingers
an incomplete set of lines
bunched together to form
an incoherant song
is all i have to offer
i feel your grip
slip away
as the site of the apple
becomes more appealing
finaly cold hands slide
off of my chest
this is not at all
what it use to be
the price we pay
for negligence and ignorance
indulging in ones self
and forgetting whats important
and what we love
not being there
no longer needed
new flesh taste so sweet
and old flesh fills your mouth
with rot
overwelming
dying with every second
its no wonder
you gave in
to the serpants plea
but its alight babe
i will always love you
i will bit the apple with you
for now
in hopes that one day
we will be of
the same fruit