Pantomimes

It’s a wash, an eclectic collage
An engine sabotaged‚ a lingering mirage
Had that dream on my consciousness stream
So eye-opening — when I woke up I felt more asleep
You know the one: its colors blur designs
Its paint migrates the lines
Of what is pain imagination and what is real life
Hey it’s been a long old time
Since we’ve seen a clear plot
We changed more into pantomimes
Every time we talked
But sometimes yelling louder makes you heard less
Sometimes a little blood makes you hurt less
Sometimes a little acting is the only thing that rests
Between you and the outline chalk
Monsoon‚ Mensa Rubik’s Cube
Conductor of the room‚ ventriloquist in bloom
Little kid, self-destructivist
Always full of shit; you’d sell me for a compliment
Even if you knew it was counterfeit
Hey its been a long old time
Since we’ve had clear thoughts
More like stones on the mountainside
With every step we walked
But sometimes yelling louder makes you heard less
Sometimes a little cut makes you hurt less
Sometimes a little acting is the only thing that rests
Between you and the outline chalk
Sometimes bigger spaces can contain less
Sometimes you see better through windows that are stained glass
Sometimes you only slow down by moving on too fast
Shattered core, experiencer of horror
Theatre connoisseur‚ I can’t blame you anymore