Quicksand
and those sketchy  
day dreams.
Are
dragging me
down river.

To Go.

Drunk dancing
at the
Devil's beat.

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As I lay,
here.

Drowning,
in all your liquid lies.
With my right hand
above water.

Of course.

Every fallen angel,
sides down the slippery
stripped-strip,
strippers pole.

Onto,
darker day dreams
of swimming,
singing
&
swing-dancing
with Lucy.

Tap-tap-tap
dancing
with the
Fairy Master
Lucipher,
himself.

Sometimes people are just misunderstood.