Splitting wood in backyards of suburbia while splitting hairs of necessity
Stacking the cracked and weathered wood grains. Accidentally thorough. Energy and vibrations and a basic level.
Take from the land what you need and nothing more.
Exhale and see the warmth that is leaving us all. See your soul while it exits your body.
Stale sweat drapes us while bacteria thrives in dry mouths but all that matters is that constant wailing of cymbals in my head.
Independence seems like an unattainable beauty
The one who always gets away
The one who leaves you alone in bed at night
The one who apologizes for running off and laughing and carrying on with that other crowd
Self imposed dogma to govern the self leaves a soul self loathing
Bottle tipped night after night with a weak wrist
You don't understand a simple mind like your own, how could you possibly begin to comprehend Me?
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