Will there be a structure here

Or will I look for trickery

I looked at my old writing today

Syntaxes don’t match the meaning of my

Broken thought                 crashing               crashing through my eyes

And then slowly this light fades                 into reflections

My precious mind remembers the days of youthful bliss

When ignorance was embraced like a lover’s molten touch

At length I find that my count fails

I become a prisoner to my

unfaithful words a caged bird it remains

is this a tool or a jail holding onto

my hateful past only to gray my future dreams

this mind it reels this hand goes cold each word now feels like

an old ghost meandering through my mind’s endless mirror