i'll take you down
running rampant
in and out of this shadow colored day.
i hate to see me leaving this way
wrapping myself up in the sheets
only to find you there, feverish discomfort.
somewhere back there is God,
i'm laying on a bible while i'm sleeping
and my face is tearing itself apart
listening to the sound of the walls
screaming, restless in thier old age,
and grabbing at my hair
when i'm not looking. tribulation
has taught me that tightrope walking
is holding on to a wave of humidity
and falling through the floor
a thousand times again.
my words are stifled by this
watery muzzle of tea leaf green.
if these levels would raise me to burst,
i'd die from heat
in a snowstorm.