Hazy Acres

This is the part where you become the person who learned the lessons

Its as if they put a torture chamber around your head

And poked the ends 

You are in the forrest it is raining and your matches are soaked

Wet matches 

You are invited into this private poker game that is somewhat interesting 

But only in the sense that theres not much else outside the rituals 

Mostly like a fine tuned machine 

Cleaning windows with dead bugs 

Former dreams now just blood 

Splat 

You never wore a seatbelt up here 

In the spaces 

With the criminals who are bad actors 

Dressed up like caring sharers 

Just a prick 

Devils admitting they are devils 

Yet you enter the arena 

To play small ball with the children

Babysitters in the experience 

How many layers can you create in this cake 

I’m quite full from the richness 

Saw a little tell in the insecurity 

Highlights

Yellow marked the page to death 

And now its not a page

Just an artificial sun 

On a board in a room where the minions play with numbers 

My eyes are numbered 

Like the days on a calendar

Smooth operators in a dramatic play that is now an improvisational dialogue 

Admit one 

For the sinners and the saints who brought the water 

Hands on a cheek

Frozen in time around the in energy 

Do the Han Solo 

Set up like a bastard

And now the faith to push you over the edge 

Falling down without a bottom 

Just to fly back through the portal 

As you watch from down yonder 

Stupid 

Tinker toys break 

Weak wood bought wet 

Shadows in a crown fit for a drama

Sizzle pilgrims in a confusing light

Wet matches 

There is no fool in here

Home on a hill half burnt down 

Detroit lovers die the longest deaths 

I still see you dancing