don't have my driver's licence but i'm driving myself insane. twisted junctions of everything and nothing and pieces of something and memories of everything. my weapon is a pen, never know when i'll strike again. mockery creeps into my step and as i move forward i can't help but reflect. life jacket left in the package, taking chances, planning tactics, risky business. pulsing uncensored irrelevance ceasing words, mid sentence. my mind is a battlefield and sorry folks there is no gear to protect you from what i may or may not have spoke. truth wrapped with realism bursting into your lifestyle and affecting affections for something you already knew. back burner move forward allow something to lighten up your space, quick pace no need to rush, allow the sun to embrace and organic to take shape. still putting up a fight for something i've believed in with all my might, it's kept me up to see the moonlight.
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