Almost everyday there is a time when
I quietly place my hands on my face
And let them slowly drip down my skin

as I think

"Oh God, what does my Dad think of me?"

I see the demons in these people,
Tired eyes carrying the weight of self infliction and the sight of monstrosities,
They do not see the sun,
And their breath is a tax

I look at these mountains
And I say to them
"Move."

Here I am again,
A seal perched upon pillows,
On a polyester cotton blended sea

I ran into the heart of darkness as it pumped the night through my veins,
I found the ghost wrapped round' with an envelope skin you slipped between the door and floor,
You wrote my name on his chest,
He called himself Nakedness,
He would haunt me for the next three years living in my shoe box,
He'll grow louder with the dust and the silence,
But the Summer sweat,
The frog and cricket orchestra,
These things are commin' soon,
So I'll drive to places far from here,
Covering myself with wolf clothes to hide my shame,
Because I will surely become the things I run from,
And your eyes will never be my hiding place,

A guardian is much more to be feared than a foe,
For a foe fights for his own ambitions and victories,
He has no external investments,
He is completely of self,
But a guardian is jealous,
He is a protector and shield,
His investments are external and his enemies have much more to fear in because his reason to fight does not solely lie within himself,
But also in the person that he protects,
Therefore his fury is doubled,
And his heart full of righteous anger and aspiration,
Enemies flea on love poured out upon another by sword

I drive a white truck big and clumsy,
It's a whale,
But today I get to drive the BMW,
It's just a sedan,
But I'll make it a fireball