Rich Heart > Saucy Soul

The awkward confrontation of a fear that isn't purely a fear. I mean the probability and constant infatuation with the stupidity is irrelevant to the destinations that will be tripped on. Lace me up, to tie me down, to break free, run away, rich heart > saucy soul. Open spaces that are confining the creative energy bouncing at my temples, squeezing the momentum from my finger tips, causing elastic smiles and bewitched expressions. The weathered marks on unmarked substances, smoking up in a chaotic relief the disrespect of not dancing and raising your beliefs to the drop, that dirty thriller shock that will have you twisting in your skin within blinks of silly eye lashes, dusted is the most elegant of charms, glitter from the glitz and this sure ain't the valley, Love bug. With all the bows and delicate sauce you think you require your temperamental shine is quite dull and in retrospect we are all rooting for the other team, this time, last time, its not the right time for your time so settle down and get with the time. The restraint with to much, not enough, just the right amount of nothing. Stop. Drop. Roll on over here, take a look at me. Open window concept and your talk is cheap, no cents, no refund, step back - finish it, your full cup of bullshit, excuse me, waiter - shell take a refill.

What Time Have You Got There

predicament, and this is looking less and less like a problem every day. wording, in the wrong sequence, wrong time. what time have you got there? can you afford, to spend a little time, on me, on this, on whatever your thinking. thinking, what exactly are you thinking and where are thoughts leading you, misleading, deceiving, don't you dare try leaving. a constant tug-o-war type scenario, and this isn't my scene but i'm really going to enjoy it. actualities and technicalities and things that make you do other things, things you've provided vital information to yourself to not let up, and there you go, lifting up all the bridges jumping at the opportunities, calling shots, taking off the bullet proof vest, this cannot be save, lock me up in the safe, where i keep just about everything, but ill give you the code, maybe a couple of numbers off, see what you can do, good luck, secretly im rooting for you. cheerleader ambition and im falling off the fence, certainly trespassing now, on your mental stability, i am unstable. balancing on nothing and just about testing the waters with everything i've got. what in the world is up with that. roger that, skeet skeet, can you handle that?

Fall into the Fall with the Summer Heat

Load the water guns with the perfect amount of whiskey on the rocks. Somersault into my summer heart, and pray to Rock Jesus that you make it backstage to pay your respects to exactly what you believe in. Climb a tree for a better seat and call my name to the stars and when the fireworks do appear, take a picture with your eyes and look into mine so I can see what you've seen, what you see in me. Heart beats so loud they become a track on our favourite road trip play list and I can't help but try to swim inside your mind and leisurely make you feel at home. Can I kiss you already. Claim you to be mine and tell you everything I know. Happy summer days and a pocket full of candy, taste this just for laughs and you'll remember this forever now, no past no present no time wasted because I've got tons of time to spend and I want to spend it all on you. Can I make believe what's real to me, talking into your puckered lips so that you can kiss what I've got to say, and savor the taste on your tongue. Beautiful faces and beautiful times and the times are beautiful right now, don't question it. What are you feeling. What's in your heart and when will all of you, in an entirety, unite and feel something so cohesive that you might want to end the summer with a shot for you and a shot for me and well fall into the fall with the summer heat still at our feet.

Alive, Are We?

feverish pigments, on a darkened night. and the gooeyness of a silly putty mind. the directions are clear, but the feet are stumbling towards them, taking long ways and short ways and zigzagging through everything shiny. mucking up the easy stuff too make it a little harder, but i don't think the object of this is to make it harder, or to get out of it. alive? are we. running to and away within the same moment and the constant tug of war that is building on the membrane, wobbling the knees, and kicking the heart. butterflies injected with heroin, because we aren't sure who's the junkie. what's the junk. the thrill of nothing and the nothing of the thrill. the upside and sideways side, the point of view, and lasting flavour, bubble gum? the chipping at it. the ins and outs of it. the curiosity. are you, curious? the the threaten of the death that comes with it.. do you want it, indulge in it. do you mind, if i ask you a couple of questions and a few more. and i might never stop asking. i'm going to die, i've figured that much out.

Satisfy My Dissatisfaction

Crumbling aspiration and a pipe lined with dreams, where's the draino? Interesting predictions for a brave heart and eyes that pick the pixels out like candies. Toe tapping chimes to the time and just what time is it? Starlight, star bright oh darling which way is right, the right makes sense or was it cents. Worse times for hiccups and yet I cannot control my laughter. Grinding your toe into the hopes of a root beer float. Hmmm, float. Satisfy my dissatisfaction, kiss me quite correctly and how will you be paying for that. I'm in the slums of suburbia, you didn't realize it as much as it was a surprise to me. The green of a stop light and its making me sick, the constant fleeting change of mind, GO. Wait, SLOW down, just you STOP right there lemon drop. Bags filled with the utensils of creativity, doesn't mean you've got it. Cast your written words aside and flush your emotions down with the actual action of making a move because this Jenga game in your head is only driving you crazy, show me your bricks before you break your own back with the pressures you've decided to fill your knapsack with.

We're Making Plastic Out of Us

this is just a hot mess of words and feelings and there is no reason we can't stop, we've really got to stop. I'm tired of the run around and you sitting on your throne, with the most beautiful of scenery, and I'm tired of you telling me things that are true and you try to make them not true and never apologizing, but that might be the only good thing about this because i really don't need any more sorries filling my pockets, my mind, my heart. I'm done. so over this and that and i say it all the time, i am such a typical cliche when it comes to matters of you, but I'm running and I'm running fast, I'm getting out of this burning building that is so pretty watch and warms me but it is ultimately destroying me, the flames are legit laughing right at me. flammable tearaways and runways looking cool, a boarder line of rags and garbage because that is what were doing here. taking a good thing, like a martini, but shaking it up in the worst ways possible, even stirring this heart would cause hearts to stop. We're making plastic out of us. Plastic meltable emotions easily moulded and bendable to the minutes in which we encounter together and this is all false, false advertisement, false hope, false affection.. Because if any of this was actual, it would be happening naturally and we wouldn’t have to steal moments because id have all the time in the world to spend on you. We're making jokes out of each other, you and me. Laughing fools in a furry of ins and outs and ups and downs and you don’t even like roller coasters, what the hell. Can we stop, this constant, like like like hate hate like like like, the contrast is awful and I cant tell if we have a ship of any kind because the water is evaporating and overflowing and this is just a rush of the elements, hot and cold like a random Katy Perry songs but I don’t want to kiss a girl, I'm still trying to kiss you, and it's got to stop.

Down the Bottle, Sleep with the Empty

The encouraging urge of your defeat winding me up and casting diamonds on my skin. This isn't a vampire story because we don't want blood but if the opportunity rose I couldn't beg you differently for the likeness of rage has empowered my motivation to breath and were playing tug-o-war with our surroundings, we've got first class treatment to our idiocy. Maniac attention blubbering from pores and skin feeling toxic but exhilarating. I'm drunk! I'm drunk! So drunk off images of you, I can't help but down the bottle and sleep with the empty and trying to tongue out that drop, that little pinprick of yourself your giving up to be. An occasionally I am not left sad by the fact of you for my tongue will get a swift taste sending my atoms into a frenzy all harmonizing together singing give me more, give me more, give me what you've got baby, give me more. Talking myself into a drunken stupor, using the bottle to hold the embers. Dancing in the shadows of things we want, going through the garbage for things I think you've gotten rid of, but foolish me can't believe your still holding on with a grip like mine, were fighting for the same things at different times, with different company, and in a world where you and I could rule.. the company is important now, the factors are all X-ing me out.

I Believe You Are A Belief I Believe In

i think of you more than i realize, more than you know. you hold a creative spot within my soul. simply popping up, in random little places, but always the places i seem to cherish the most. a beautiful little tag, on the corner of a stop sign, the perfect colour and position, the emblem of someones talent. in the moment that my eyes gaze at this piece of art, i think of you. there was a chip in the road, not a pot hole or anything to extravagant, but a chip in the road that made me take notice, looking both ways on the road i bent down and let my fingers trace this chip, and immediately i thought i should call you, give you directions to this chip in the road so that your fingers may feel what i've felt because in that second, i thought of you. i'm not going to flatter you and say you are always on my mind, but behind closed eyelids late at night i still see your sparkle. your flamboyant vision, dances softly across my skin and i often try to taste your identity. i believe in you more than others. and this is not a merit to be rewarded too me. i simply believe in your soul. your stride and strive. your are a warrior at all existence. i believe in the thought of you. the idea of you. the actuality of you. i believe in you when you dont believe in you, and when you think twice about yourself, i've always thought once - one long continual beautiful dreamlike thought that is real in all complexities, in all notions, you are a thought i will continue to think of and embrace the contours of your life. you are everything and a belief at that. i believe in you, that is a fact, and if you stray from the science of my mind.. i will always be here to prove you just that, i believe you are a belief i believe in.