I found this in an old book, written in detention in 2001.
Choices break the moonlight and turn it into this abyss.
I cannot change a damn thing, yet I have to decide.
It makes no damn sense.
There it goes again, Thunder on the horizon.
A giant walked in this body once.
I know it.
I am sure of it.
He reached to far above his head
Fell and stumbled into the burrs that hold across my skin.
Watching a silent fury.
Knowing only, I got myself into this mess
Now I have to band-aid through it, sliding over a newly waxed floor.
With ink nearly dry, I can only shake my head in disgust, as it all writes itself.
There it goes again, Thunder on the horizon.
Can you perjure your soul to save face? Or do you face more bullshit?
And if you can what do you tell it off?
Is there any apology for forevermore?
Fuck it.
I have nothing to say, Except amen.
There it goes again, Thunder on the horizon.
Under skinned knees, I will get over these little stupid times.
So I will wave north by northwest, kiss a balloon no matter how weird it looks, and send another message to you.
So goodbye.
don’t ask why.
I honestly don’t know what more to say, except amen.
There it goes again, Thunder on the horizon.
Time for me to kiss the wind.