Fallen

man-with-stick-going-homeDidn’t know what this would be, youth clouding my eyes so I could not see.

Welcomed to my hurricane, fast nights, fast bikes and behavior far from sane.

You flew in on the wrong runway, I was shattered man and you just wanted to play.

Dug your needles in my frontal lobes, yeah hell, lets give this LSD a go.

Chaos, eye of the storm, broken bones, hung up phones.

So you cling to my back as I hurtle down the highway, time for you fly away.

So till next time when you need a quick fix, you joke that your little island is where your type mix.

I knew that would be the last of it, I had already dug a hole for my heart with a nice tight fit.

I’d bury it there with all my useless things, like my mind and fallen wings.

D March 2017

 

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