[Zen]

I hang back abrasive and distant glancing at a stack of papers waiting to be printed. My favorites have been writ. You'll never make it again, Zen. My behavior has drifted from being faded and twisted. So uninspired. What became of my existence?

I'm lost. Crazy as shit hanging on hits of Lucy to make me forget. Blue and bruising waiting on a fix. Confused and losing, does that make me a prince?

I refused to lose. Shit, I became what I writ. A hoodlum loose and creatin' a dent with ruthless shooters..blazin' this hemp in broad day, already became what I've been.

Saw the moon at noon, gazing. Intense. Pupils in full bloom. Radiant mist blows away and it's taking me with my soda change to go to Minnesota. Oh my, hey. I need a moment, please just go on Dave.

I broke away fleeing with demons creeping my home in rollerblades. Creepy..dreaming I'm leaving with the coma wave of people sleeping. Roads are paved where creepers creeped in back at home when they broke the plague. Apocalypse of the Dahmer kin from Roman myths that froze the day.

No other moment.

Now focus.

Home's this way,