Ever Closer...

I can barely remember the sight of my own eyes,

Toiled up in a world where the edge of my sight is closer than the offing,

the forgiveness of myself has long left behind my honour,

Lies become daydreams sheltered from the dry air of reality,

Some live in squaller as I expose the stress for clean,

Walking up and down my own downtrodden path,

Whilst the palms of my hands meet my forehead,

Under the table sits her majesty Eva in tears as a child,

“Where are your eyes now Matt?”

A sign that you’re coming back,

I hear your voice the only one named,

On a good day you follow me round but from a distance,

We are both happy for the freedom,

Ever closer Eva as the month draws to a close,

Time hits again for another dose.