and each morning was another chance
for him to take over the world.
there was a time when just the thought of true love
would make his heart beat so hard
that it would feel like a heart attack.
even in his youth he knew he was misunderstood
but it seemed people only spoke of nonsense whenever they could.
yet how many times can someone be misunderstood?
how many storms before the bone turns to wood?
how many pulls before the bone pulls from the socket?
you're out of the game when the ball sinks in the pocket.
he was misunderstood.
he was read like a book.
he was like a cop.
he was a crook.
he would wipe away the tears.
he would lay down with you.
he was him.
and you were you...
hiding deep behind those blue eyes.
you could see the ocean in his pale blue eyes.
and you wondered sometimes...
was that blue just like the summer skies?
or the deepest depths of his painful cries..?
Fucking christ, it's so dark down here.
this is so deep there is no light.
enlightenment can be very dark.
you still haven't got it right... asshole.
"oh man, you haven't changed a fuckin' bit!" he said with a sneer.
"you don't know what you're talking about. YOU are the one who has been stagnant! Frozen!" i said. "I HAVE changed. A LOT! "
but he can't hear me. he's too busy snorting his boyfriend's million dollar blow with disease encrusted straws.
i can see his balding head from the view up here.
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