cold feet, kind heart .

(its 3:19. not a problem at all)
cramming for work
to end steady but quick,
we pull out blood to be thinner.
stated enough for kindred to share
the same girth.
i sniff cocaine from my friend's car key,
least i found to stare at dustballs,
boredom and the lacking ranges often,
cigarette smoke clears my throat
i forgot,
the end here means to mend.

the motels playing but
death metal music playing across my ears.
my wants are still with all my sigils and tattoos.
not without prose now to say
i cant be anywhere,but where i could be
is somewhere spatial and incoming.
my will is to hope, not wither
my dream mixing with piss, gray, blood and semen.

would you believe to long for the ordinary,
a beautiful lysergic might get me there;
enough to think of not thinking
just to pay more penalty
running from each toll.
so bright
from unlight

aren't we all storytellers
covering what was intentionally not there.
"we're not losers at all"
a few seconds to reminisce you could have died crossing a street,
passed by a bus stopping at nothing
full speed ahead.
hell is
not bitching too drunk to say we're right being there.
listless but
so much to say
we throw away like rotting food,
and we cant speak no more..we just cant.
things to hear,
these seconds never last..

can i make it before the 26th?
excite in ill faith what did happen,
four of us will again forge for that something,
to rue, to curb, to grip
to believe.
congratulating a solemn day not even a gun
could take speechlessness.
all at the same time, what have we done.
to jail.a kin died. my love slept with another man.
music is failing. friends falter. it was in nothing.
you see;
i forgot the end here means to end.
and now i understand.
i know what i know, my apologies you read..
you heed..
take my hand will it with me
and together

my fate is mine.