Dissonances & Discoveries

who's still there?

one thing I have is a cavern of savage sadness and I'd rather not have this conversation

no zen for the hell-bent.  or the precarious soothspeakers or the vicarious sin eaters

uncomfortable like  unable to be comforted treadless headache and the smell of burning rubber 

the OCD and anxiety make for a nasty long shower tens of terrible thoughts to think before I can sing anything to calm the conscience

place your bones in a pile for now it's not nearly as silly as it sounds the horizon glares unkindly

purr says the furnace for the most interesting face in the room

a new tattoo reminds me I'm old again and I own up to a future of forgiving myself I have a soft section of soul for an opposition who knows their mistake

smile like you’re leaving remember me in earnest long term concern 

and I grow anxious to the sound of my pacing I cannot picture my own face

I fear I- I feel I missed that bit about my bottom line and looking out for only mine when it comes down to it it comes down on me

soul as cold as Ahab's hands to weather a center like mine

dirt for dinner crow for dessert I spilled your soul soup  and I broke the slow cooker I am so sorry I could not be like you