45*21

some of us
wounded by the neck up
like dying sunflowers
in the September sun
I personally just want to sleep
but then I want to wake
and feel refreshed
but somehow still feel asleep
from the neck up
making it difficult to enjoy
a September sun
go tumbling in overgrown weeds
my hair filled with thistle
I sniff my soil encrusted fingers
and boil my thoughts into a goop
This is how life is
when you are the horsey's arse
grown up for a world to see
mindless and dazed
murdered by a red rabbit
in this lake of consciousness