Jeff Can Blog

I don’t recall this much emptiness before
But when I kissed you I could taste all the air inside you
There is no excuse for such self-neglect but then again it’s no precedent
I forgive myself for letting it phase me afterwards but I still can’t accept it
I just suppose it is not curiosity and rather it is self-pity more than anything else
It is cleverly hidden in my speech but those cryptic nuances are not so easily pacified
That is why when I try to sleep, sleep does not come, it just floats there mocking me
That is why the hours count themselves and why I transmit this disproportion in spirit
Forgetting is making the conscious aware that the subconscious must do the same
But it never does, it oozes with the spines of discarded books and ideas of love that were never realized
Fancy that, a quarter-million words that never leave or satisfy the imbalance of paltry sentences in my mind
They gather there in the sub conscious for their own funeral that may as well come sooner than later
For those dancing syllables and thorn filled justifications all sum up the seriousness of regrets passing shadow