here's an ode to midnight drains and
dreams suffocated by pointless comparison
amongst rare forms of being.
in a world of misfits,
comparison steals all joy.
-
in a world of misfits,
who cares if only 1% can relate to the comprehension of
dark & light,
as whole.
who cares when soul outweighs modern roles
played by vamps,
getting hype while you drain.
-
i take hype in doses,
to help me to 'loosen up' at pity parties
where i'd dance if 3D grounds were stable.
but my energy, is it dead?
is it still dying
as i continue to realize my own sense of aliveness?