Closed Book

Emma Langford 2018.03.28 53
You're a closed book, 
and I can't read your meaning
Written in your sullen look, 
as you stand up 
there screaming
And I lie awake wondering 
talking in my head
Is it real, 
is any of it more than me? 
Or am I a dead man walking?

There's a dreadful fish, 
and through 
my blood-stream swimming,
Whispering your written words, 
the worst of which 
I'm dreaming,
and I stand and raise 
an empty glass to 
your wisdom unexplained
Is it real, 
is any of it more than me? 
Have the words 
and letters changed?

There's a reason well that
we don't turn your pages
Locked up in your chosen hell, 
you've rolled the rock of ages
And we turn and face a camera 
with the focus ever shifting
Is it real, 
is any of it more than me?
Are we more than 
lost souls drifting?

At least I came, didn't I?
And I was there, wasn't I?
And now I'm here, aren't I? 
And what more can you look for
In these eyes, in these eyes, 
in these eyes of mine?

So I lie awake wondering
And I turn and face a camera
and I stand 
and raise an empty glass

So I lie awake wondering, 
talking in my head
Is it real, 
is any of it more than me? 
Or am I dead man walking?
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