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3am
It's 3am. I am sleeping but my mind is doing summersaults, and i was never very good at gymnastics...
Somewhere along the way we left our future to our children and hoped that they'll have a natural instinct that we never caught...to lead. I rip up so many kodak moments and re-write so many songs in my head.
It's exhausting to be alive today
But i keep fighting for those seconds of hope that brush my shoulder in a crowd while i keep hearing bitter voices, "how do you work the shower in this damn hotel room!?"
They tell me to picture a white man carrying a candy cane staff and i'll feel better, but i suppose my imagination isn't creative enough to see something that ridiculous.
I can't listen to the perfect people complaining anymore. Perfected smiles and furious hearts. Why is everyone screaming so loud?! Don't you realize that lying should be done subtly?
Musical notes taking their chance at sounding peaceful but it's a swing and miss kind of attempt. Three srikes and you're out. Strumming with self control and confidence. This song WILL become beautiful in time, and practice WILL prove perfect but comparison to various stringed instruments will cause a callosed hand to go back to smooth laziness.
I AM PROUD! Proud of my ability to hide the darkness behind my flashlight! The energizer bunny will last forever, right? But my mask is smothering me and yet again i cough up blood from that heart full of dying batteries...
I just want to hear truth even if it comes from false teeth and painted red lips. I'm listening even when i'm pretending like i'm not. I'm a field pasturized with snow, waiting to be imprinted with angels...
