...
Who am I  to know the truth?
You say it's all in my hands?
How dare you
To put
Your ***** in my court?

I know I may call the shots,
Stuck between two wars,
But here's the truth:
I may be the only one
Who loses.

Either way,
I'm broken hearted.
I lose no matter what.

For I may seem I have the upper hand...

But neither of you will ever know.

This choice does not end with someone's happiness...
I alone,
Will feel the pain.

It's the red heat I mean
to capture in rivulets.
My blood blues, too,
fuzzy pink, Juliets.

Burn the whole palette
and rethink your colors,
the impressions you're under.

**** score-keeping, thus
**** the goalkeepers.
Life requires only
earnest volition
to hum to life.

I'm so happy to be
right here now
Light. Mirrors. Town.
Poets 're comin'
and how's giving time
for paper where
Time's scarce?
Screens & buttons multiply.

Escape, expression,
eleven-eleven,
words and their meanings,
intentions and speeches
come running come screaming.
Supposed to mention truth n'
whatever I ever reckon to believe in.
I know you can't recognize anything
close to truth till you're sittin' in
your inner world.
And here one is, baby!