sometimes i ask myself why keep going? what is there to
keep going for? so i can grow up, have children and make
them miserable, go to school and question all that i
question and wonder why people, everyone besides me, falls
in love and my love santa keeps geting stuck in the chimney.
all that comes is bubbles...
3 inches deep and drowning,
they grab above the water,
the sickly delicate grabbing for the hand,
man and doll stalking intense eyed children
in search of their fallen angel..
and love, only an empty shell
on a sandy beach in the back of my mind...
lost cause? perhaps, find solitude in bubbles and calico
dreams. fair thee well.