Some days i have faded spots in my vision.
A psychic once told me that was the fate changing before my eyes.
A shaman told me it was the moment past lives over lapped in similar circumstances.
A doctor told me it could be diabetes.
--
How it would feel to just exist on the background landscape of my mental plain.
Knee deep in a shit storm of spinning lights and whiskey flavored pipe bombs.
How the sensation of falling stars clashing against my chiseled upturned spine.
The hollow sound when old spirits of my short life come to visit
and watch an interesting young man
become that weird old guy.
The projected blue body
masturbating in the night
to highschool panty dropping day dreams
the way you used to stain a dress in a high class
establishment.
Smoking the devils lettuce and inner city church hymns.
A golden fleece draped over my ghost
keeping all the demons at bay
til the moon crashes
the way my pupils dip south
as my eyes roll back
and im covered in my
good fortunes.
god let me live.
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