under the knife the pressure is weighing down on the chiseled spot that has made it's bed next to my soul. it lays tossing and turning there, forever into the rise of the sun and the hands of the night. depictions sinking it's teeth into my core, a feeling of exposure floods all of me, every sense, becoming of me and the sudden feeling of mockery washes right through me. a joke that wasn't present but knocked down all the pins, a laugh, which in the corners of my ears is still happening. a tactic so smooth that i've realized it's skillfulness, sly like a fox there is something much more deeper here. ever beautiful, the eyes of the great looks at tragedy and happiness and does not quiver from either. embarks on an oasis that felt just like a midnight's summer dream but was entirely of a different sorts, an early week's vacation that has laid it's head on my shoulder and I can still feel it's safety, it's comfortably in the contours of my body. a click of a pen that ignited the words for the page, they have a gallant affair that results in the most wild of passions, a sizable action, i'd wish to capture, to bottle and store and to keep with me in the pockets of my jackets that i can never stray from that feeling of, we'll for such moments words are no longer allowed because they would take away the actually meaning, the actual feeling that is still in me, hours have past and I have entered new slumber, awoken to new days yet i remain in a trance of yesterday, a piece of my will stay there forever, a timeless moment that words could never sacrifice for so i leave behind just a morsel of my soul.
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