perched eyes

I just want to change something, or say something, that I cannot change or say. so I will put it here, let if fall silently, across my feet, made cold and crooked. I am listening to keane, letting it explode within me, trying to read the book thief, and knowing all I need is sleep. But I don't, and I still keep looking, with fucking perched eyes.

I give you too much worth, even if the jury is divided here, cutting itself in half, a maddening state of limbs.

Sometimes I imagine that they would look my way, or just see, that maybe they could change their path, or change mine, or just add a heavier weight to existence.