Bits (written by Max P)

I see you taking bits out of the mosaic
letting them fall in slow motion onto the roof
I watch the lacklustre motion of your eyes from the back of ur head
I know that you want me to follow the trail
I also know that these bits form this train;that are your thoughts

I follow your tail as i pick up the bits;*scoffs
like i have a choice, like you gave me one
I want to scream at you but i cant find my voice
You look like you’re having fun, well…maybe not
but i have to run as…well…after these bits that are mine
You know that i cant reach the roof,..the roof that you cant reach from yourself
I will lose those bits..those bits that you put on the roof
not to your words but to your impervious walls

I understand your need to let go of yourself from myself
I realize the inevitability of the death of ‘this’….of these
matrices whose records we do not av of its birth
I see why you have to take bits from the mosaic
You see why i have to take back these bits

We both understand this conflict of our agreement
the nexus of our haphazard singularities
but tell me something to quench my satisfaction…
to fill this hole of uncertainty with more apathy
Why do you take bits out of the mosaic..that is my being

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