Echo Locate

Sonogram eyes blind and rested
Fake it through loud crowds and questions
Intellect, an aware unstrument
Concious states and balanced distance
Call echo, foot on the gas
Reading trash rags
No home’s ever dragging me back
Half shadowed, hands in the lap
Ignorant past, it won’t ever let me relax
I lie in healthy aching
The grasp is old and failing
It’s conventional wisdom, to finally just stop listening
Call the ending, think out loud
Drawn to you somehow
I won’t try and figure out
Makes now difference now