The Right to Return

With the aftertaste of teenage angst
affixed to the roof of my mouth
my tounge struggles to reconcile
the fragments, cialis look into the whole
make it look beautiful again
but i saw shadows in the fog
yes shadows!
of towering men summoned like
a series of rolling clouds
of past mistakes
the return of ancient petals
from dandelion clocks once blown
into heavy blue winds
now returned
wishing on dead stars
revisiting old scars
angry about everything
angry about anything

and in mechanical prose
I would tilt on the axis of the earth
spinning silently benathe me
in an attempt to be one
with everything
at peace
with just about anything
try to make it look beautiful again
dress up a memory to make it look hollywood again
to remember it that way again
frozen sweet smiles
stretched out for miles
picture perfect moments shrunk
to fit the seams of my wallet

but in truth
I am waiting
to become a shadow
of a towering man
or at the very least
to die young as an ancient petal
of a dandelion clock once blown

to return