There are moments of pure joy
and I’m more than thankful
but some times.

The only solution feels like a gun
in the mouth.
Brains go east,
teeth go south.

Some times.

you want to burn  everything to the bare walls,
scrape the soot
with a sledgehammer
and start again.

When did I loose
all that sleep?
all that time?

Why is the most stable,
most satisfied,
situation I’ve
EVER felt.

When I have all the love
anyone could ever need,
want,
expect
Be when the whallop comes.

I AM the happiest
the luckiest
the most stable
me I’ve been so far.

Maybe it’s the black
that needs to be
burned way.

The blackened soul
that needs the bullet hole.

To make sure that dead body
is truly dead.

I’ll be risen early on Sunday if anyone can’t find me.

;-)