Oily Omen

I go far, but not too far, honey, for the signs have already given their message.

I have danced with the devil, and I spin out my mind,

to get just that boundary of space and time,

and rewind, cause it’s moving faster than I can think,

and the words spinning reels in my mind….

see?

I got to the brink.

 

Listen, but not too closely, for too closely and you see the minstrels waving you into their thicket, and you’ll hear the demon’s battle cry on the land opposite.

My band-aids are positive memories and declarative itineraries.

Oh no! I’m becoming a battery, my eyes are twitching like lizards, and fingers move quicker than quicker, like a layer of tiny sheets of bubbles, one after the other, light and sweetly.

The oil on the street told me to fly as a bird, and I turned, and prepared myself. I heard the distant battle cry, which transformed into the the calls of my ancestors.

I don’t want to collapse, but I must admit, I’ve always been leaking life.

And recently, I’ve discovered that I am life, and I’m choosing my destiny.

Those moments, on a vision quest, when I wish for someone to auto-correct my thoughts, I realize I am my own biggest fan and critic, appreciating myself for how I see the world and the cynic. And I’ve held on for so long that this world is much more than I can see,I hope to take others with me.

Okay, enough for my acceptance speech.

All this fire, all this burning inside me, pressing on me to keep going, keep going, all of the time.

I think I’m a mad scientist, a mushroom growing beneath the shade of a tree, processing and keeping it together,

or so the street told me.

 

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