Fixer upper
Flipped and tender
Wondering where we're going
Home feels like forever away
And they say it's a feeling
Well then that's distant too

getting mad about making sacrifices
that no one asked you to make
always keeping track of exactly what you give
and never what you take

These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.

I feel the weight of nearly a hundred moons upon this suggestive flight deck, overtaken by transfusion in a high formation rhythmic way. Fluorescent headphones—neon red, rotate around neutral zones. Push in, pull out. Swim under the pink, towards some aerobatic link to mother earth. And still, we're not in orbit yet. Your dawning glow you blow into my lungs. Will you catch me if I blast away?

It’s a vital red
A scorpion’s sting
A piercing and
Unending scream
It ripped apart the
Heart of me
And still it
Goes on running

A balance beam
the edge of the sidewalk

Excavator escapades
the sandpit

Sundry scenes eclipsing face
Mom's cooking

Turn around
Nothing