With the wind

I feel my life skipping across the water I'm just waiting for the moment I sink. When you feel your life being flushed down the drain you cant help but to fight the current. I wake in the mourning to only pick my self up and keep forcing through to make my second wind. Life has carried me a stray leaving me far from serenity.

I take this moment to mend and prepare for the next wave that surly has enough momentum to through me over board. The boat I hold dear to keep me afloat sinking before my eyes. Pushed ashore coughing up blood residing salt. I stand to witness a riot arising in the streets, I hold no pride to lift a finger. It is but a dash of anger, a smudge of dirt, cold shredded knuckles bruised from the madness. I drain the oceanic water from my ear to unfold the rant that I wouldn't riot for less.

The breath taking beauty that would flow though this valley is now burning to the ground. In the past I felt comfort, for the future well huh, I am hopeless. As of now. I cant say I am not a victim of being lost in the moment.

Repetitive ringing coming from none other than that fucking alarm clock. I grab a hold of consciousness with lack of the willing I do it any ways. Awake to stubble over the clutter that crowds my dark gloomy room. A bit of a rumble in the stomach as I rush to the restroom the contents pumping up and out my throat saying what a beautifully day. Lights reflecting yellow paint, water trickling down my spine just another day to soon be a night.

Nothing other than a contortionist in my head. She is true blue not like you, you or you unique she is. I will continue lost my train of thought, fUcKiNg ConTortIoniSts.