There's probably
a cacophony
outside of my cocoon
but I'm too fucked to hear it
Full frontal
Lobe lobotomies every year                           by the dozen zen on clearance
don't seem to clear it                                          still nowhere near it     like Christmas clearance

There's an answer man
there's gotta be
I always feel so near it

Hunting for the truth although the truth is that I fear it

                                                                                      The rustle of the leaves
the see-saw of dichotomies                        
and midnight tussles under sheets
the clackety clack between my knees
All lost in interference

Still hunting for the truth
although I fear it

I chase my tail

a starlit path to lead me from my mind                            some nouns and verbs to get her off my mind
some words to set my blood on fire.
a golden shrine to which I can retire

you feel it kick
you've got it slick
the world the purple rain                         is yours the rain

the rising mist
you kiss the clouds                 trying to kiss the clouds
before you fall again

the Sisyphean walk of shame
the unforgiving backtrack to the same

So much of life is distraction
from telling her how you feel