Encouraging the Burn

Disconnected pieces,

from the same fragile things,

trying to erase the madness

but these kind of stings

linger and stay, they seem

to leave a stain and when the

flood gates open there is

surely no reasoning...

For the tide is high and always

changing, for the elements

are forever deceiving. And

there is no means to an end

while we're here, patrons in a

deathly scare, an audience begging

to look a different way,

we're circulating in this tailspin.

And while the mayhem continues

to unfold we try to harbor

mixed emotions in the centerfolds

of old photo albums we're

encouraging ourselves to burn.