dead Poetry #31,870.

I leave the calloused halls

a voice follows in my wake

the dust hangs in the space between

and then i hear the calls

a choice swallowed for the sake

that just might make it obscene?

for if I turn my head and commit

then you've taken ownership

and i lose my stake in this

but if i follow the walk i lead

the stake is lost for all to see

and the prevalence of reality sets in

I long for the sweet touch of your hand in mine

the electric capacity that two companions find

and i race, hurdling headfirst to your side

and haven't the slightest where you stand for mine

So i wait,

the coffee percolates

and I elate in my great company

But tell me straight patty mayonnaise

what do you think of me?

For is self worth really defined by the soul itself

or is it an indication of where we sit on other's shelves

is my perception of me a reflection of what you see?

inside of our own heads we seek value in how we're percieved

so the way we relate to the ones we hold dear

explicitly creates the person in that mirror

so look at that looking glass a little bit clearer.

Do you see shades of others in the lines on your skin

the blemishes and dimples, the people that have weighed in

on the life that you live

the ones you value the most

live inside of ourselves as a protectorate ghost

for they validate the conception of truth

and ruthlessly tear us from the innocence of youth

but i still got your number memorized as i shut the door to this phone booth.

I think someday soon this phase too will pass

the introspective awareness that I am an ass

and in the end we'll all have a big gas

as our classes we clink so on and such as