When it feels like the world is crashing down, it probably is, from atop a mountain, rolling snow down the pinnacle of the slope. The glass-half-empty shattered from the cold as perspective iced over with my hope. I don't mean to mock the pessimist or the cynical; just the antithesis, in fact, to help me cope. Arrogance is bliss when misled by confidence. But life turns me in the wrong direction, often an analogy for morality, being a continence in the cowardice of complexion. Tough love has never been as tough as when love met cessation. Coming on with the optimism too strong for the average person, you've never seen a smile more genuine. Biting all the hands that feed me, I am open with emotions. Still yet bleeding hearts stain the sleeve that they're worn on. Reaching out leads to calloused fingers, blistering red from the teeth. Palms that have been read allow the third eye to see, as sedation slipped through the sleeper; an aqueous cell wall to call my only keeper. Concrete thoughts and concrete shoes sink deeper. No more can I count these sheep for an insomniac's idea of a steady night's sleep. Sooner yet I'm one to count my blessings. The chicken that flew the coop before the eggs were done hatching. Self-aware and wishing to be blessed with ignorance; I'm probably out to lunch or gone fishing. Hooked the line, too soon did I sink her, no longer am I casting doubt. Snowballs become glaciers to gain momentum, slow to the very bottom. In a dream where berries grow in the garden, I've fallen into the drink again. Tonic water, sloe and gin. No deals made with Satan; still yet I've crossed Him. My heart will melt when hell freezes over, smooth as satin. Down and drowning under, thin air thinning with the world's pressure, less water to sputter, I've been trying to get better, but better seems so lack luster. I've been trying to get better, but better seems so lack luster.
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