[PancakeBrah]

stuff.

it’s sanguine with an open wound. standing agape with awe.
so native. i want to capture each of you in a masonry jar.
sensational. live life tonally. it can be so tonal, your cause.
there’s so many openings. and i just chose to withdraw.
“no regrets”? no. i can’t imagine the same mirth as you.
imagine life as circumferences. venn diagram comfort
and satisfaction, overlapped in the middle is numbness.
i want a fat middle. with small slices of the latter two
on the outer ridges. just for who that matters to.
those who might frown upon, and such. i wish i could clutch
the very air i’m breathing right now, with my eyelids shut.
right as im typing this. to feel its quality. to let seconds slow
for one whole year, sigh, let it go
then sit here for another and listen to the echo of the arpeggio.
alas, not. i’m not the despot of a supposed fate’s dreadnought.
just one of the few who fights back with head shots,
no brag. you watch all these things pass, too. easily.
i just chose not to collapse on easy street. breezily.
i’m lazy. they call me lazy. but that’s just a word to use.
there’s some others. defined as i’m not going to be sherpa’d to
going through in servitude. there’s duty to tend, yes.
but it’s so secondary to flesh. so why pipe it down?
i’ve had moments last my entire life to now.
i fucked the nihilistic view. sexually. and loved it too.
because nothing does matter. but everything does.
even as it passes. so long as it gives you that...buzz.
sage? no.
just seeing the next wave. im not to the page turning news
with tired age burnished views. I’m escapism blues.
Just another guy,
fading with you.