thought processed

keep it vindictive
ooh how i slid into the shadows on echos of hope
i feel open riding lacerations through every fiber of my creation
hanging like a skeleton in the corner of a classroom
picked apart on Tuesdays and Thursdays
sightless i watch your movements
taking notes as you scribble down your science of obscure fractions written down on napkins discarded in trash-bins
a half eaten thought wrapped around bubblegum
soured off by days of neglect
picked up and tossed around
do you get it repeated four or five times around the room
to who
your gone and i'm stuck reflecting on why