october
october
october

october
october

oc

to

be

r

there are two eyes staring back at me in
such a loud silence
read between the lines she tells me
and two eyes stare back at her in
such a loud silence.
the deafening silence
you're an oxymoron
I flinch because I read between the lines
and the turned up to eleven quite
that makes me
cry
die
sigh
lie
try to make sense of this oh so
silent mess
those eyes

I cry because I want to live
where the boardwalk is
small-town gossip maybe snow
but when the lights go down on the night sky
the starry night that van gogh painted as he was
locked up
there is a boardwalk

ever-present in dreams
and there's that same old smell
roasting peanuts and
there's the boardwalk