inside the highs and lows I find
a blissful satisfaction
trickling of sentiment
detracting interactions

spoiling a stellar ever-changing mess of sums
I play with knives between my finger-webs
staring at the sun

such a screwup
never knew enough
to stop the waves from crashing

now the memory of consequence
condemns my prayer disasters

chasing after laughing fast enough to cry
the time escapes me like it's trying
not to let the cracking glass
refract the light

hold me tightly angel
spinning top of madness
numb reactions
found a splinter in my hand
and cut it off
to match my fashion

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