August 8th, 2014
Years float by, the Earth turns, the skies change.
We grow older, we are wiser.
We are distant, chilled, we are friends
We are those who know, those who have known.
There is no want, no more fire.
YET…yet suddenly, there comes hurt.
Surging out of the dirt, like a resurrection.
The same pain, the same confusion.
Why do you do this? What demon are you?
Let fire and brimstone consume us. You will reduce to embers and glow like the menace.
Stay dormant, waiting to return and set fire to my skies.
I want my peace. I have it here. Go away.
Fuck you, Michael Fassbender.
I want waffles. Or pancakes.
Some with chocolate chips and others with heaps of blueberries.
And fresh OJ.