How you slip, slide down my throat
Charming your way into the depths
Of a fucked up essence. Of a totally
Fucked sort of anything if you please.
Curl your way within my little sweaty
Palms, tell me it’s okay to feel this.
Let me know I am able to reach out
And find someone to understand.
Get inside my head. My heart. My all.
Spy through the eye of a crow
And out my solemn soul will flow.
If you please. If you want. Please.
Want. My diary is naked, bare, laid
Upon the hands of God. Create
The world and I will surely live it.
Stumbling blindly against the grain
For your entertainment. If you..
Write. Everyone needs a story.
It’s got to fit the foot like a glove.
Or is it a shoe? No one ever makes
It clear. Mud is about the most
Transparent I can seem to fathom
Right now. Please, if you..
Please want. To help. Too much
Of the story is falling into my hands,
Too much is leaking from the delicate
Leaves bound within life’s book.
If you want, please create my story.
Create my life away.