*Not your average publishing company

When they come home

Barbaric practices
Tattoo cover ups
Regrets are real

What was once
A yin and yang
Is now a planet
That doesn’t exist

It’s all just procrastination
Timed stop lights
With nobody there

How is it
I’m aware
I’m not here

How can I believe
The moon is up there
If I cant believe I am here

It’s all just estimation
Best guesses
And expert advice

It’s as good as
My reflection
In a pond at night

Or the slice
of my eyes
In the rear view mirror

All the while
My arm is sore
From the needle
Of pinks
And blues
That mask
The once was

But how will I cover
The scripted words
For a name
Never to be spoken

Could I make it an astronaut
Who might fly to space
And tell me the rock
Is in fact
In its place

Maybe then I’ll
Do the math
That if the earths satellite
Takes up space
Then so then do I
I am here
I am not fake

It’s all just imagination
That carries
me away

But where then do I go
When the astronaut
Comes back

Do I stay where I am
Or tempt fate
And back track

What else could i have lost
If ink can cover ink
And symbols be forgot

It’s all very strange
To think so much can change
Then heal and disappear

Have you ever wondered
what car a spaceman drives?
Sure you think a rocket
But what then
when they
Come home?

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