Strangers -

Strangers in the places I’ve known

Sharp edges surround

Dark circles under my eyes

Flaked bitterness

Shut in cognizance

Soul flickers weary light

Incandescent hues a blight

Not to be

Faces in the shadows

Tracks twisted as they go down

Transient borrowed lies

Radiant crunching chatter

Torn suns beating like flies

Not to be

Obedience in what I own

Freedom in what I’ve found

Sentiments of sentience

Flicker like waves of money

Ideas borrow like sixpence

Drowning in pools of honey

Deep vats aflame

Contact bristles

Raw eyes find their setting sun

Drowning out the morrow