I move my arm

you move yours

but I don’t feel my arm move,

do you?


I see the sunset reflected

red & fire & magic

resting on the horizon…

but do I see it?



I’ve stared.

I’ve felt.

I’ve breathed..

but have I lived?


There’s just this


I look in the image in the picture

I see it in my liquor

I see it in the glass

but it’s not me.

It will never be me.


I see big brown eyes

I see wet & messy hair

I see a glassy gaze

looking & searching for what,

I’m not sure…

What am I looking for?


Am I reaching,

trying to find something beyond those brown eyes

piercing back at me?


My eyes can look like black holes in certain light,

eating up everything that enters,

letting nothing escape…

but sometimes I wonder if taking in everything

means I’m

missing the point.