Fix Me?

Shun the light, distort their memories.

Existing in your world, living in his nights.

I was never here.

Apathy makes for a facile veil,

The questions never call the buff.

Let me go, it's what I do.

Piñata

High up there, it rained in that thought.

Dreams were spun in that breath.

Drenched in the muck of simple thrills,

Covered in the filth of innocence.

And yet, celestially clean.

It's been pouring myriad witching hours now.

Why am I still dry?