It's Time to Take a Wrong Step

Smoke fills the spaces within. Purple haze filling a sepia mind. A hollow laughter cracks from the dark side of the moon. I stare at a slice of it. It mocks at me. Life in pieces, juggling to fall in place. These are not thoughts searching for words, these are thoughts without words to describe them. The pit gets larger. People jump into it, in a trance. It's a bullfight between men. They push, they hit, they are lost among themselves. Bang, shove, fall, stamp. Mosh. Or look up to the flying lights. I count 5. High is one feet above the ground. I am there, soaring.

Wish you were here, shouting down the street. Thud. Bonfire. Oh carol, why are you so insanely melodious? Moonlight on a dull, placid lake. I turned to look, but it was gone.

I am generally high. All it takes is a cup of coffee, a couch, and Live 8 video (Pink Floyd). It's worth more than 50 bucks of beer. Or two tequila shots.

Running over the same old ground, how I found the same old fears. Come out of the loop man, it's time to take a wrong step and watch the fun.