from bed, all over the place

when did you decide to raise the question of how we had been getting on these days with doorsteps hopped over and windows left open i drearily drip your passions in a cup for one this isn’t fun anymore the way you find the floor without bending to make certain you’ll be caught and teenage corner posts handing out schemes and facades to freckled bystanders who wish they could decide transferring power to a jacket and hat with nothing left honey i got your back dropping an accent attack so they think i’m down to get up and then fall flat through their glass table stained with chalk residue a final taste to glue this night of burned feathers and pill popping crews blasted pupils pumping, gathering the light it’s darkness we’re covering to stay out of sight suspend me please i need a reason to blame and stand with this huddle all the same 

hand curved out is it foil or cellophane that will enter my brain twisting colors and figures pop culture miniatures mixing well with the mood of fluidity i have to adjust your altering me then i stepped out and left this ring of greed pushing plasma slosh stingrays suspended under our feet hands down finding a seat. i have to get out. you kept repeating until your heart stopped beating. 

*and three randoms that filtered out:

‘standing in the shadows’

i remember jessica simpson’s sister singing this song about being jessica’s simpson’s sister and wanting her own name 

i don’t know it.

i know what people have called me throughout this forty year history from peanut to johnny and mayo most recently, well, that is mayopolis rutherford jones iii if you’re into the brevity like the dude would say friends that gather to pick and play when shoes sink in wood tick fields grass catching in our socks while we face the trees running faster to feel the breeze fade as we nest in the ferns splayed towering birch leaning to gather shade for the heat we felt when desires to gather in grey this is not the place we went with giants roaring, lurking for the touch to find when i’ll be back crawling into a cave with disrespect john kennedy was jack and his car got wrecked i listened to the travel ban 
lifting the soil to turn over a fresh view for life to suck in and take the few that want out of this world so desperately a final plea for balance 
not much got in the way of giants as they stomped their way through last monday afternoon the abandoning of a game that was not in their hands and then we went back to our hollow house to hear what was haunting our heroes,the way we were found out in the rain while passing through another night of temperature raised moments friction and blinking a lightning storm shrinking all that could have been buried by the soundscape leaving everyone squinting try not to enter when feeling this way figuring you’d left limping last year languid 

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