WEEK NINE: MIKE WRECKA (1-1) vs OBJECTIVE (3-5) MIKE WINS

[Mike Wrecka]

Plunging to my death, towards the ocean floor, something I regret, leaves emotions raw,
russian roulette, on these coastal shores, until someone I met , left me with open sores,
tried to connect , better yet, stay afloat, explore! but plummeted into the depths of debt , in a breath , hopeless, poor,
needed to focus, score, but provoked a war ,after every sunset when I awoke ignored ,
If pressed I will confess we should have spoken more, but opportunities never opened, like a broken drawer ,
love is deep at its core like where hemoglobins stored , but we were stuck on the surface, of an ice covered lake with a frozen oar, surrounded by floating orbs , wearing cloaks and swords holding ropes with claws on an ethiopian boat abroad

Wait

This is a putrid scene, it cant be as it seems, awake from this lucid dream to the sound of my muted screams,
surrounded by translucent fiends , it would be prudent to retreat, but fluid is included and congruent to my feet, there’s movement in my sheets, I assume it is a beast , soon I’m consumed by something looming with its teeth,

What

I was still asleep but now I’m safe in my bed, but why am I swimming when I should be pacing instead, the comfort of my comforter has me chasing a thread, as it moves with the tide im embracing the dread, I’m in a lake and I’m dead, my eulogy’s read, so now I can finally rest my head but instead

Wake up on my couch, in my house my home,
no weirdness no creatures , just me and my spouse alone,
god she’s so beautiful , soon her blouse is thrown ,
our love is a cocoon where no doubts are grown ,
this passion is a path leading to routes unknown ,
And just when shes about to moan,
I’m quickly surrounded by a thousand clones, of Al Capone with clowns and drones and cows on phones

Am I awake or am I dreaming, am I dead or alive,
The best way to see the truth is with closed eyes