theoretical science

(eyes wide open)

my head hurts from staying up too late
with the many nuances of chronic hurt.
unable to rest with my shallow state,
my grave digger ways poison the dirt.

where does love go when we need it most,
when the days fall under a rebel flag?
when empty goals set the heart to coast,
eyes dull, stomach hungry, skin to sag?

zombie sons born from kindred killers
roam the space between life and death.
they hold the ground where oil drillers,
dig wrong way holes for angels breath.

it must be lost where ill fated fortunes
go to forget truths they use to know.
its a lemon drop theory spelled in runes,
long since muddled by reap and sow.

caught so completely in our crimson sin,
vision ends at the tick tock chimney top.
perhaps im stubbornly giving my heart again
in yet another Morse code message.(stop)

or perhaps im looking skyward, eyes wide open.