Done with “like” over “lust” and surely “under” love. Volumes spoken narrated by unwanted ghosts and demons of some unnatural frenzy that plays repeat tracks on a mind far beyond its comprehensible years. A demeaning attribute at best are the invisible scans of un-treaded territories. Waters wish swash across sand that tells a story that begins and ends in a matter of seconds. A short lived passage into the stop, start and repeat of an existence we get ONLY ONE LIFE TO LIVE. For I am exhausted in my training as I have, without a doubt, conquered this before. Agony envelopes me as “happy” seems like just another nasty word amongst the depths of a fairy tale existence. We float down here, where I live and dance and sing and even CHARM you if you have just enough sanity left or if your eager to die a thousand deaths like the rest of he, who, them, they, ME have witnessed. Cucumber sandwiches, white rabbits and tea parties no intellectual individual could sit through on a daily basis funded by the ridicule the “boob tube” possesses in our oh so mediocre lives. Birds eat, trees dance, die and are born again from starvation and change in a season, hardships or misfortune. As I deteriorate into a pile of ash am I born again of mind body and soul? Do the walls start to retract and my lungs fill back with the precious oxygen of their youth? Who knows how to rip the pitch fork form our eyes that tears of blood bleed? As we suffocate and grasp at walls made from silk. Six, four, two and safely back to one…where we wake realizing that the late of the date we were meant to arrive at is now lost and forever gone.


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