Not even close to the same person anymore; It’s been bled, used as a tool for the fool on the hill; the thoughts that didn’t exist;
It’s been a year; now Moby and some organ dance on the head of a pin.
Invoke, evoke, pass and purge; woke with this song in my head. Cigarettes long past seven years… Carol and CBGC’s… a life that’s so full you could drink it and never run out, just getting written to full cups every day.
What heroes come to save me, later, now- when you didn’t think anything but what labor was ahead, enjoy the bricks, the brink, your bones; ghosts aflesh again they breath and come to life, dancing joyous to the sound of guitars
I am alive but stable
I am alive but what is this- I’m at peace?
Not alone without having to explain myself for everything’s no longer critiqued.
I don’t care what you all thought you knew because you knew nothing
I know this because you didn’t ask.