Myself. Myself.
Who else? Who else?
The universe is always with me.

I maybe alone with only philosophy and routine,
But I awake every morning never lonely.

I now;

Tuck myself to sleep.
Sing myself a lullaby.
Pour myself a glass to drink.
Bury myself in sheets at night.

I admit it took self-control and a floor for me to greet, but nowadays I look at my feet and it's the best sight to see!

The floor! The floor!
Never ever before!
Has the earth looked so whole and green and sewn in patchy.
Below us all, ten toes and two soles. Peace has been all about loving the ground beneath feet.

I use to;

Tear myself out of bed.
Find myself a few hours in.
Scare myself awake, shaking.
**** myself for being ******* annoying.

Save yourself from sloth and wealth, two women that took my bed.
I can't blame them now for bringing me down, when I invited them in.

Now I;

Lay myself down, happy.
Me, myself and a bed so big.
Pardon myself, for hating.
By myself, life isn't a sin.
Healed myself, with one breath in.
Forgave myself, exhaling.

"I. Love. Sloth and Wealth", I say to myself. I don't despise what should always have been in small quantities. With a will and a way the balance is made, and now we can be a family.

I once;

Burned myself, still texting.
Hurt myself waiting.
Unplugged myself for an evening.
Told myself I was failing.

Here I am!

Producing myself a new mantra.
Singing myself a new song.

If I find myself with blues and a heart bleeding from a sleeve, scabbing, dry and peeling.

I remind myself what love is about and I can feel the universe kiss me.

I could.
And have,

Screamed into the universe.
Lose my language and mind to the
void.

Grab her by the scuff of her pant leg.
Pry myself to eye level

With my last breathe
With one last relic of hydration in
my eyes.

"Help me."

And she would still shrug.
Happily, apathy.

At the Zoo

Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear
Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize
Preludes to the parades and finale above us all
Weeks of saturated irony
Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ
As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery
Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs

Then gunpowder
Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos
Layers of streets in gunpowder
Towns built of gunpowder
Sky is gunpowder
We are born addicted to led and gunpowder
Gunpowder ****** in the air
Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest.

The Grand Finale
The Volta of the evening
The hammer of the judge
*** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-  
show us some skin!

Covering your ears
Eyes fastened-
Ready to burrow back to mothers womb
Binged and free
Chinese celebration hijacked
Red, White and Blue
And a moment of silence  

Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven
Chorus of arousal on Earth
Band marching war machines in hell

The showdown of 241 years!
This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about

Only free to battle shackling intoxication
Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring
Sulking for indoors and portable addiction  
Chanting three letter obedience
God being counted by his blessings
Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies
Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll;
liberty synonyms.
Arresting the too free

At the Zoo,

The cuckoos regaining reality.
The phoenix red eye and held under oath
To the next day where we are back
To hate each others freedom, again.