THE past claims me in the most selfish way.
the visions impairing my soul.
Visions of you wrapped with me.
your skin smelling of you, going deep.
The gasoline ignited with a simple thought.
the fire blazing high.
the burning out of control and not stopping until I am gone.
engulfed, willingly.

sometimes people are just not happy.
you can't make them laugh
or at least for long
they can't smile much
just sad
i always feel like I am a clown to them
red nose and all
moving fast and talking lots
nudging and prodding
they sit and stare at me
blank stare
death around the corner
sharpening his swing
waiting they wait
the waiting room of death
#345 please follow me

...and yet there are clowns like me
here for the entertainment
living in a different world
sunshine and roses
beautiful woman
nice people
potential and luck
my life on a wire

....ill take this one.