Best and Worst of All Dancing
It's ok.
Thank you.
You can
go now as far as you'd like to.
It's ok to cry sitting outside in the rain.
You can tell me but I won't tell you.
I don't understand your pain.
Besides, I'd hate to complain.
It's ok. I can deal. I can heal.
Thanks for the inspiration to feel.
So what is it you believe to be real?
Are our dying nightmares just dreams
Where happiness seems to be everything,
And everything is nothing that it seems?
Is this not what you know?
What did you say?
You can't get a cook hooked on crack every day?
We must all be ready for war with more incentive.
I want to make the scabbing of sores inventive
With new and unopened doors attentive
To the only inspiration left in me, 'death'.
The last flower still living unfolds
single, shifting, broken hearts -
Flues, emotional colds, and
Frail pallid body parts
And eyes,
And then it dies...
The only inspiration left in me, 'fear'.
Oh dear,
It would
appear
Some sort of insect is swimming in my beer.
All creation has to stop now... right now and here.