sanity or whatever

standing at the edge of what might be infinity or sanity or whatever where the lines in a man's forehead crease from time and laughter or sadness and anger but there is nothing to be said but a held breath waiting as long as possible to be released

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joy

what hasn't been forgotten is that you were waiting for me to fail not to rise or raise myself to a level but to fall and fall hard without ever much mentioning that you would be content to let things fester that there was even a moment you thought might bring you joy

spitting in our faces

what does it take someone spitting in our faces careening wildly to whatever side only to find a median or not but here we've placed a spotlight on insanity we've given the stage to a wannabe a presumptuous pretension a moment's weakness a thought sadly said and more importantly a nightmare given form with a … Continue reading spitting in our faces

bound

in the haze there is nostalgia holding its hand to the light and against a collar strapped (unknowingly) to your throat and the contour is delightful and the craftsmanship is superior and even in the brightest of light the coloring of it works but it is still a collar and it is still as bound … Continue reading bound

cool, man

leans back means nothing acts cool there's something more to this than just the words there's that effervescent cool that lack of try and the side-mouthed whisper I'm better than all this I've been that for a while and nothing you can say will change that til the end of time from the fruit breath … Continue reading cool, man