howdo u reckon? (1)

Obstructed in immaturity, It’s been too long since I’ve been out dancing, freeing sweat-

And although I’m content to wallow in insignificance I redirect my intentions into a resurrection of sorts-

I feel ashamed, like Richard when he couldn’t find his ride/ I feel broken, stuck circling with the water of a Malt mill, chk, chk, chk, chk/

I feel desperate, clawing at the lock on a mausoleum that stands closed for a reason/

And I feel used, overused, exhumed for another autopsy by the same banal coroner who didn’t find anything on his first go-around/

But how to rest in peace?

Destroy your trace.

An idea is alive as long as it’s alive within someone (agony if commensalism)/

A face is just a face unless you’ve missed it before. 

A pound that can’t house much more is bound to start killing, and the meek will be euthanized before the strong/

But the meek will inherit the world? How do you reckon?

I’ve spent time traipsing paths that have long been trodden bare, I’ve knighted the same pallid foes and expected the most out of them/

I’ve spent time mastering an incomplete goodbye, lest the distance be too hard to sustain/

I’ve seen money stand up, I’ve seen moods fall down/

And I’ve endured an empty stomach for longer than my privledge could/

So why do I miss/