In the end, we never really know what we’re coming up against.
Like a thrill seeking pre-teen with ill conceived notions of danger.
…life ain’t a movie man. Life just ain’t like that.
So there we are, hanging out with our dicks up Five street.
I shot into darkness as if I knew this foreign lover language;
But never did skies open for my warmest of wishes.
Collapse! Collapse my dear lover, it’s gone on too far.
I’ve pushed to the end and I’m not quite back again.
…Whisper my madness with two squiggled lines to display it in this dust.
Misunderstanding again with my heart. It is drawstrings. It is amicable.
It is pleasing to eyes that only pray upon sunsets.
It is a thousand masterpieces; perfected.
I cannot hurry your authorship, for wind is at neigh and folly on the deck.
A thousand hungry scavengers await in lost calluses at bays end,
Like cavernous regions of our shoreline amidst Gaia’s sweetest affection.
Cower young souls, breath in foul punches of thine enemy,
Congruency only relays smartest on deftest of blokes.
Carry this lanyard on further, as wayward as you choose.
