I'm trying to get back in the flow
of feeling consistently constant
to blow my mind out
back to something cosmic
Made of star stuff
and spangled banners
bellowing my brains out
trying to wrack something
worthy of your attention

You just get so lost in your ego
it's hard to love yourself
before you put the world first
on your shoulders
and let go of
what was dragging you down
barreling passed all the borders
The self imposed prophecies
of invading the privacy
of your broken paranoia
are you even following yourself?

When you get to point
of writing it out
trying to sort out the madness
to make the next step
and process the enlightenment

Someone left the light on
in the attic of Heaven
calling
back to the stars
where they made up stories
of legends