Crossed Out Name

I sit expressionless

in a bubble of constant motion

With a thrum, thrum, thrum

of three cords in the back of my mind



Captured Photograph of an

orange sky that never stays

is all that remains



I wish I could through myself into a

location far beyond this universe

So when I finally rest in slumber

I will no longer feel like a page

with a crossed out name



I am not meant for these days



Ventures through my weary mind

always bring a distorted memoir of you

Of coffee stained eyes and

a smile warmer than Jupiter



Forever I now stand sentry

for a tomb shelter of dirt

Reduced to nothing more than a

blank page

with a crossed out name