my skin & i, we
have a love/hate thing going on
because we never get any time apart.
you have to play things out til the end
sometimes you already know
the direction, the arrow
but you have to play things out to the end.
your love of music & your culture/nature/nurture
i'm less likely to plead flippancy
i'm hanging by a thread
i want to be as certain of myself
as i was at 21
my convictions the greyest area
parts white and black.
i grasp at poetic
like it's the second coming (or are we up to the third now)
i grasp at words, which once
i flexed like muscles
which lay dormant
i keep grasping eagerly
(or, to be honest, in fits of desperation).