My head is full of rocks
my lungs are ocean filled
Peace is skipping between each beat
My temple needs scouring.
My dreams are churning vivid things
I know nothing real when I’m awake
Nothing Real when I Awake.
What matters? Not story? Nor Grade?
All I have to give is given.
Collapse. Retreat. Shutoff. Reset.
To start again. A wish.
Another: Continue forever
with no past on my heels.
The dusty rear view mirror. A pebble fashioned into brick.
From living stone to Baker’s corner. All, each and every angle
To Every Angel!: I give up!
I Am Ready Willing Able to break everything.
Break Every Thing And Build.