Occultist fires, sharp toothed saw
You rub your eyes til I go blind
I failed the grade, unfamiliarly

The black goat came to stay,
In this place no one dared to witness

I stood on both sides of that old barn door
This is my one move to you,
This is violence, my own owed servitude

Blank check devotion
Black eyes gleaming with rage
Total darkness of a well

Tearing down what light had built
In fevered dreams of pure crimson silk

Forget this admission
It serves but one

Never come back, you
Run run run

I sat here to rest, but
Without my permission
Some thoughts came with feelings.

Those feelings took over
And now I take off, What a shame.

I lost what I had, but
What wasn't worth keeping

All that I knew, but
What wasn't worth teaching

Then I had come
To the grandest conclusion.

Just what you'd expect
From someone who’s losing. What a shame.

Your crosswords piled
So high

A book to take you
Away

A perseverance that I
Could never make
Stay

A spring day

A boardwalk

A long night

A nice talk

All I could hope to be, but
When I look in I see

A fraction of what you
seemed

To be
to me.

I implore,
“Let this apple roll!”

What's in this city?
What brought you all?

Is it what you see,
That sent the call?

You must be so careful,
I do decree
-
For what you see
Is nothing.
Really.