My Epicenter

Rocking back and forth, the hours tick away. Earth child, so sad and in need of comfort. We all fall down. We all break apart regardless of who, or what, we are. Flickering light of a candle, casting patterns on pale skin. Headaches cutting through mushy brain cells. Balls full of spunk, bursting at the seams. Bottled beer, and haunted by love. My epicenter, a place where dreams go to die. Strands of hair and clothes of sand. Stars as mementoes, of a time before the fall. Of a time when we were together.

I’ve lost so much, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of. All my faults, markers of devotion. These mental scars, signs of life. Signs of a struggle, between right and wrong.  Too sensitive. A skin too few. The shell of man, with emotion in the palm of his hands. The ashes of my remedy, falling like snow. Be pure. Be alive. Sway from side to side, and show some colour. Don’t be afraid, just be natural. Own up to all of those mistakes. Say what you need to say, and give yourself to the one who you dream of at night.

Give yourself some meaning. Give yourself to me.

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