The Gravity of Grammar

Sitting with backs to open doors with

the lies I told that connected and joined the dots

Allowing safer passage from head to heart

The truth opens itself with razors for teeth as the heartaches send black lights

across the space and time as I bled out from having the time of my life.

Confessions allow me to come up for air as the dirt I covered my body with falls 

Starting over and over coming back from my own losses 

Blending the paint, covering the boy with shades of shame in the back drop where wolves don't bite, or burn their names with lit cigarettes

The pluralistic rhetoric creates enough distance to slip into the valleys low

Masks that blur the lines allowing the misses show that I'm really fixed

Flat lines, and misses connections belly up and wasted formerly shaking off the hot smell of embalmed lives we could have taken.

The better parts of possibility intoxicate the brain, and deliver a bigger space of dioramas  and canvas where we can endless play house endlessly at the starting line.

Admission to the guilt the doors close

All the trees shed the familiar 

The houses board up

The pain numbs

The waves crest and we can sleep the long drive home