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GNothing makEes my heart so wild as being
GIn posseEssion of a potent nighGt,
ERacing down the stairs in a nude descGension
EShedding and discarding my hide
GBut the bAold strokes crack so quickly aCnd it's
AOften that I wonder wGhy
EDripping at the slow motion rate of surrGender
EHanging to my bones as they dry
GHow could DI want something more
than a new heAll in which to fry
GWhen I Esee in only black and whiteG
GThere?s a sEinful sort of side of being
Gso containEed, A bit like being lostG.
EStumbling through the background like a small town loneGr
Equietly a whispering my thoughts inGto
Amy cupped hands, folded and monk-Clike,
Aat least thats what i've always saGid.
EHow does writing letters from the lonely marginGs
Efeel when there is no hair on my head?
GIs the sDolitude I seek a trap whAere i've been blindly led?
TelGl me, whEere then do I go instead? G
GWhen aEtonement comes in distant waves
GI might wEait until the next to breaGk
Echoking through forgiveness at a sun fly prompteGr
Estaring through the back of my face.
GIt's a Avulgar, hidden part of beinCg
Atethered to the world right noGw;
Espending all my dollars to remain a membeGr,
Enothing in my eyes but a scowl.
GDo i boDther to define myself beyoAnd what they allow?
GHave IE already forgotten how?G
Then hang on G for a while, then end on E.
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