a clumsy creme mellee

my mind's half asleep
and my body's half asleep
and i'm only half a whole person
shaking with my eyes closed
sending quakes through every thing i see
coffee colours rising to the surface of my pastel smothered skin
and yellowed paper money leaps and twists through the playful autumn breeze
bending above the streets of the city, always only just out of reach of the grey rugged people sitting low
feeling low and so close to the ground
but ask the person next to you and it's likely to be true that we all feel like that sometimes, ask the old lady patiently waiting to cross the road where every line of her face comes from, and its likely to be true that we all feel like that sometimes, that you can bundle some of your experiences with some of hers and mix a bit of paint with a bit of white paint to create
creme brulee
or a melee
so sweet it may fill up my whole .