gearing up for going out

putting myself that much

further out the door and closer

more to where I was before

a  tall door broaches my path

and steps in relapsing

spasming its way into my sight

and I might cry or live and fight

the urge to not go out tonight

its splintered and erogenous

a simplistic thought but

so far beyond the normal train

the royal waves and

faces smiling plain

but not in pain

and I’m a tricked out helicopter

spinning head and belching vomit

just to pass the time or pass the

crossed out roads I left behind



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