words by dominic riccitello

falling on inconsistency
taking a dip in night
in eyes i find truth
used men in low fuel
fighting the dive in mine
with lids shut and mouths closed
waiting on mirrors we stood
i dip in thrills
making sense before it commends
our hearts in toll
forgetting a man in might is a boy in fright
and i dare to say the words we reek
watching bears in forests
seeking divine harmony
with bats flocking
truth dividing
ourselves, we sway
and i say words in rhyme
to find lines make sense
in ways hands grips
the dark truth of our hearts in horror
drinking gin to face terror
he steps closer
it becomes warmer
i step further
near becomes colder
clouds find fog to find us
dark nights fold truth
creating hidden torture in our beings
men make sense
not because sense creates truth
but imaginary soothes
and what we’re taught, we’re told
because lies in men
are what we’re used to