Sunday, March 1, 2009

... As long as I'm on this side of the bed.
Ecstatic; mania at face value.
Almost a fire within, that doesn't know
what to move towards.
A calm expression on the outside.

Accpetance comes, with this extremity
as a baggage.
A world almost as fantastic,
as the feeling of delirious anticipation,

exists in my mind;
revolves nonetheless.
The otherside is piling up. They say,
they say the pile will not collapse.
Really? A draggy, morose, insecure pile,
almost to the point of being annoying.

No definitions, nothing constant.
Why is this relevant again?
I don't have to rhyme, or make sense, right?
You will define me. You will be
my anchor.
You will be.
Are you aware of your existence?