lethal dose established
now tell me what your plan is

marked:  hazardous materials.  
special handling required;  

contaminants.  corrosives.  
radiation.  explosives.­  
pathogens.  psychosis.
before even touching this
you need to know this:
it was a cure for war,
a solution to pain.
it was something that should
never be attempted again.
it was chaos, it was peace

it was the last second of time
before either of us chose to speak.


now the moment has passed, the HAZMAT crews amass
i mention casually as they put on their gloves
"is there usually so much destruction"
replied "what do you expect from love?"

growing closer to where asking questions is cancer waiting for an answer.  essays, and mindwaves, and backspins, and moon rays.  Eyes above my mind, but it’s the truth now that makes me blind.  and all the pathways i can’t find because somehow they have left me far behind.

the density that carries my mind, like lead floating on air: casually undefined.  but there exists a lie i’ve told a truth behind - told in fast forward but experienced in rewind.  the fluids become ink and words against your spine, while worlds reroute and minds align.  it becomes a certain sign that the best hand is held by time - who rewrites headlines that forget to remind the stock dialogue for the witness of the crime.  back again, past enemy lines, at least we have explosives we can hide behind.

so remember those who will perish
  
in the war and all the truths that
    
they died for

but it was the only way
  
really,
to even the score.

i would **** you if i didn't wanna kiss you
i would free you if i knew i wouldn't miss you
i would feel you if only for the misuse
i'd leave if i wasn't an addict of abuse.

the tipsy dance of ambivalence becomes the lasting moment we thought was chance.  we killed our dreams to believe in telepathy but it was pathetically lost to romance.  and where we go from this point forward was once written on a postcard but the times have changed and nothings the same - the words were true but the message you should disregard.  

and what you once became is now what you can’t remember.  and i find myself in the same place every december - the cigar smoke, the coughing clothes, the spaced out mind that no one knows.  the paper sheets become the ground under our feet and we draw what we walk with our footsteps as the beat.  Somehow it’s deafening.  

passive tones become our new home and the greetings we used before are now goodbyes.  everyone that was once familiar is now just a passerby.  so now we look to the moon to tell us noon, even as a lie.  no wonder we say we’re trying to catch each other while we lie awake at night.  

i’ll believe what I think til my blood turns to gasoline - or deny everything while smiling for the guillotine.  you got the best of me and though I can barely breathe - I’m still standing and never made it to my knees.  So keep your eyes on the great machine even though I can guarantee it will never give you what you need. just don't share the dream if you can't make it mean anything.

exhausted, accosted
feelings lost and
still dishonest.

bled dry, just along for the ride
all kidding aside,
just for a second, we die.

my moment is yours
wars of past are cures and
time lost is its own curse.

sleep tight, its the insomniacs
that dream tonight.

life is death is life again, blisters crawl across the skin, the story of a scar’s origin.  on the losing ***** of our next big win - gambling your heart like it’s got a twin.  fall becomes a sense that’s deafening as the particles that make up empty bottles are lessening.

when a star dies, gold is born - a partial explanation for the colours at dawn.  seeing two suns where there once was one is the universe explosively laughing all night long. cosmic alchemy radiates down, passing through everything without making a sound.  iron becomes gold, becomes the mined stuff of the ground, becomes some of the finer things we see passed around.

a star is a death waiting for itself, we are life waiting to be a star.  gravity is now our only friend so we can become what we already are: a slightly conscious carbon, waiting to become semi-conscious platinum, waiting to become the next vibration of a fully conscious solar system; a cosmic circadian rhythm.  we’re the REM cycle of a deity who’s chasing dragons and half asleep; ******’s to help the dream for those who’ve shot all the counted sheep.  we’re the descendants of a star too afraid to go soft, or the galactic equivalent of a mad-man with a sawed-off.

you aren’t lost when the rest of the world views life less as a value and more of a cost.  life goes back to the earth where it becomes the making of a new star’s birth.  that is our real worth.