I feel everything is in my control yet I manage to ****
up everything but lying.
**** up at chemistry, at college at racing.
The bullet stuck in the chamber or just never their.
I half want to cry about woe is me, confess
all my sins, get forgiven by a priest, have the priest
give me some direction. Just one problem:
I can’t say I love the god that anyone proposes.

The other half of me wants to sing dance and write kick-*** poetry.
This is a non-issue, I procrastinate.