Lost In My Writing

Pick me last and pay no attention

To the fact that I am ill tempered and lost
Shake hands with someone unformed….intellectually
And treat our trysts as skeptically as a pirate’s transaction

“You ok man?”

“Yeah, yeah, who’s asking?”
“You are.”
“Oh right, let’s move on to the next question.”

Transferring thoughts shaped like land mines
From me to you isn’t as dangerous as it seems
If handled correctly you have a bag of explosives
To be used for moral wars at a later date

“You ok man?”

“No, no, who’s asking?”
“Father time.”
“Oh, right, that ticking is driving me insane.”

I once grasped at the world’s sweetest cherries

And picked flowers with pixies in open toed sandals
The craft took hold and opened doors of pitch
The goo came flooding through painfully slow…itching

“Trains leaving.”

“Oh shit, where’s my ticket?”
“Sold out love.”
“Why can’t I just Ride?”
“Because this world’s had enough.”
“Of what?”
“Of you…”