A Year Of Quicksand

Wake this morning and collapse all of your youth

Eating at the earth re-adjoined

In this prophesied dissolve

Praying for a glimpse of freebies

A patch of shade

Under skies floating gingerly from undying circles

That recharge your brinks

So you can continue on days in the shackles of servitude

To the laws of what is yours to call reality.

So we've grown weary of feeling stubborn

Knowing tomorrow won’t bring Providence

So is this what I've become?

A solar flare to leak relief until explosion?

Just remain somewhere centralized in a mass

Silently beckoning innovation?

So for now my hands slip, I'm confused

Because I'm more man than I've ever been

Still these endeavors reduce me to boy

And in my own light, girl

Every time I close the lid on everything.

So here in sand

We can't slumber

We're forgotten on feet

And we're all born forgiven

So thankful on a regular basis

With an onward limp

Sweat dripping down to puddles that never make mirrors

And it could all be over in moments

Despite all our unwritten songs

Maybe songs about roads under tires, paved in sarcastic explosives

And when they joke, they’re highlighting your hopes, and laughing

Forcing your mind blank

Removing your presence

Yet your hands are dancing,

A sardonic commentary toward your general lack of spirit

You’ll say

Toward your own settled nights:

Bring on the quick sand.

Desert. Sky. Friends. Time. Chapped Lips.

And sink.