Guilt

There is never any fight against what they say you did.

Ever

and forever and ever

The end.

Up and down

Yet on we go

Favoring flat and easy

We still get sick

Fight

And cry

Please not up, we beg

Please not down, we scream

We dream of the middle ground

But never knowing

Which direction we’ll land

Up or down

Social Dynamics

I’ve noticed Imperfection is best friends with reinvention

They go everywhere together

There is no place for perfection though

And that bitch knows it

Keeps threatening to show up

Then flakes

Asshole

Even refuses to have a real definition of expectations

And leaves

Everything to

Interpretation

Habits

I doubt.
That’s what I do.
I am always the reason why.
The fault lies with me.
Blame can go no further.
No one can get more wrong than I can.
But seriously,
FUCK EVERYONE!

Upon Tomorrow

Today

The world is much the same

Years have compiled

And so has debt

Blood

Life

Time

All obligation

eventually to be collected 

but only once, upon

tomorrow

An End of One’s Own

They walk to the edge, and I watch.

Yes, it may smell for a while and those that remain may beat their breast and blame themselves, but at the end of the day—

—I neither made the cliff nor suggested they jump.

We only live once

and the path to the end is our own.

Zeitgeist

I surf the kinetic energy of the zeitgeist, looking for that book that won’t let go, I need it, want it, but I never throw away a book that isn’t working.

No, I lie to it and say, I’ll be back later sweetums. I promise.