wake up on the other
side of noon, bottle of
whiskey within grasp.
start sluggin'. who needs
today. water runs in
slow patterns through
arteries, woodwork,
some stranger's teeth.
rain runs inside of
me, coalescing, cold,
pure. washing away
the troubles of yesterday
in exchange for this
new sky. it still
looks the same. in
exchange for this day's
melancholia: it will
persist and hang,
a fog to stumble on
below. a tired footstep,
to spurn dreams where
there's something else
here. to hide from
the nothingness that
falls in fat drops from
potential.

over-stimulation
leads to
mis-communication

If I could hold a coal in hand then maybe I'd get close to you.

When I said wouldn't change for you
I didn't mean I'd stay the same for you
I'm changing 'cause I want to
I'm changing 'cause I've got to

The me I've been is no longer feasible
I realize now most people are seasonal

But it's not about other people
My priorities are wack
My motives are turning evil
And I need to turn them back

The condensed pressure

of arithmetic has been

alleviated