Sunday Walks *edit*

[CRNDLSM]

Sunday Walks
 
My Thoughts aren’t worth the cracks in
the pavement I drag my feet across.
My heels scraping against the small rocks      counting syllables take out 'against', you cant scrape what youre not against
that have rolled into my static path.               i like how every two lines is one sentence.  what is static about the path? small rocks moving
 
My Emotions find a mirror sitting at the
top of a garbage can overflowing with bullshit.      so this is a literal mirror, its sounds like your thoughts are also the bullshit in selfdeprecating garbage
My arm can’t help but launch a nearby                               cant help, how about 'instinctively launches', that would also balance 25 syllables
stone, shattering the otherwise functioning reflection.
 
My Will bends like the feeble blades of grass I           your will bends like the grass, but your will bends the hands that bend the grass
run my shaking hands through in a park by myself.         shaking hands from fear? anxiety? weakness? like a weak will bends
My palms sweat as I fail to recognize the                                no syllable suggestions, i just like certain amounts of uniformity
back of my hand and its dark blue veins.                   i like not recognizing whats supposed to be the most recognizable body part, why dark blue veins? are they new?
 
My Heart stops at the hard edge of the               its is a hard edge, but hard seems like a weak adjective, bold edge, sharp edge
woods where Nothing meets Everything.
My knees buckle and I fall before the                            
proud oaks I have nothing in common with.     ive always been told not to end a sentence in a preposition, ayn rand did it often enough, its called poetic license but its really up to you.  are the oaks in the side of nothing or everything?  perspective
 
My Sorrow is like the slow roll of a single
bead of sap down a wounded tree.                               i like this sentence, without the 'like', why simile when you can metaphor?
My eyes can barely perceive the subtle motion
as gravity consumes both time and space.                   i like this line too, but not sure how it relates to your sorrow, whats the subtle motion? gravity from knees buckling? gravity from the weight of sorrow?  
 
My Reality meets me at the door to my                                        suddenly youre home again, the walk is over?
apartment like a cool draft in an empty restaurant.
My face searches for the right reaction, only                           no resolution, searching for reaction to the self from the change in atmosphere?
to settle with on a smile in danger of extinction.                  to settle with a smile, or on a smile, the latter seems to imply someone elses

i really like your pattern
my abstract notion followed by my body part.  leading us at least to a taste that youre going through something, without laying on us the gravity of what that something is.

keep up the good work, this has a lot of potential