The battery mostly empty sends less power through the act. The art of you. The heart of you. I've heard the drums since I was a child. Music sent from my futures unseen, to touch me young with destiny. Lowest now I've ever been in the pit, the place to which ashes descend, I know the movie must play to the end, but I'll send back honesty and a meager providence sealed with well wishes and love hidden in the frames. Best believe in watching me I know your names. Cyber ink is always bleeding through the screen, writing me a list of beautiful, infinite minds. Reading it back aloud recharges my mystic energies. I take a deep breath before my return to form then open my lungs for the dive. If I drown in you, let it come. I'll stretch it out though, as I want to cherish the heights of beauty lacking in me that I see for the future in you. When the moment comes I'll show the tribunal the heart of rebellion as I learned it through the audience in their seats. The spider shall rest for the weaving as the suspicious oracle returns.
Tipping over laughing on the edge of the matress Giggling into cackles as you tackle me, naked I didn't have to ask you to seek me out here In the baptismal shallows of deviant desire In which you ***** and dunk me backward Throw me open like I'm your own casket Reach in with hope to save your spoiling soul Voluntary love took long enough to find me Across a life on tides of disgust and pity *****