i'm crawling inside of myself and using a fake again

"we drove across his bridge saturday night after a failed 'Party' where shittalkers were rampant and elevated fools sat to my right laughing about things that i'd never even want to waste my already lacking brain cells on, across from me a Trying Too Hard Soul stretched solid, to my left was _{Tiny and Sturdy}. and further down the Jealous were rounder than i in their own ways, but i was entranced with vinyl and echoing chords that keep me in a trance for days after - so we Rambled On, to His Bridge, as it was said, and we sat - though that was not the plan - and we talked talked chatted it up. i climbed the metal rickety tackety racket of a lining and spoke lightly of jumping just to see if i could touch the bottom but soon this voice echoed over the entire intercoasal - DON'T JUMP, CAT, YOU'VE GOT TOO MUCH TO LIVE FOR! - because Blue has got that power, and She sat pretty under the dim house light giggling away and i didn't lose my footing and laughed in a way that said We Will Probably Look Back At This One Day, Right? ^{and we'll laugh!} so i spun in my marilyn monroe adopted style back to the dirty dust cement and sat by them and we spoke of many a magical thing then then they both looked and with a grin he acted it out perfectly with a lean forward, wiggling fingers like aura cast smoke that mingled with the ever present curling gray coming from both of their lips (PURPLE!), and then laughed out YOU ARE HOME because we do what we do and we do it so well especially as of late with that fucking film and the way it wraps us all up in a safety blanket that tells us we'll be ok, and we're not outcasted poets of the worls that follows a river of groovy soundwaves but kings and queens of our own magic kingdom. but my breath hitched and she laughed, he laughed, we laughed again and my mind cut out a heart around the two of them, fit together near and between, and i said OK because i am OK with it, you sick fools, and i took that moment and i wrapped it with sea salt, calloused fingers, one single dread with a bead, and green eyes and i sealed it goodnight with one last drive over the bridge. it's home for now, thanks to some of these."









while mona lisas and mad hatters,sons of bankers, sons of lawyers, turn around and say, "good morning" to the night. for unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why, they know not if it's dark out side or light. this broadway's got, its got a lot of songs to sing, if i knew the tunes i might join in. i go my way alone, grow my own, my own seeds shall be sown, in New York city. subways no way , for a good man to go down, rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown.

_{and i thank the lord for the people i have found, i thank the lord for the people i have found.}