Untitled

The sense of humor disintegrates

And trails of thought glide evenly over the surface

A theme to Sponge bob dancing in the background

Too happy for the occasion

Everything is perfect in the fourth dimension

Silent echoes turn from purple to green

Random words blush with embarrassment

As sight and sound flake off into nothing

Oceans of emotion turn to white

One slight strum from the stringless guitar

Wandering in circles not being able to locate the blank

Flight of a breath and stream of a whistle

Complicated counterparts fall off from the broken

Shatter the introspect and forget the insight

Just tripped over the melting enthusiasm

Crippled cords defenseless sanity and thousands of wishes

Insomnia engulfs whatever is left in the vacant lot

And people with black fingernails forget what they were talking about