Look, I'm going to be honest with you.
I'm not sure what's going on.
Reality and I aren't that close,
we just chat out on the lawn.

There's this cat out there
existing in two opposing states.
And I just learned the other day
that dolphins *******.

I only bang the crazy ones
cause they're the only ones that let me
Though I'd eat some glass to meet the ***
of anyone to get me.

I'm not even sure I think,
so don't even I know I am.
Then again if I were,
would I even give a ****.

You see where the problem lies,
it's that I'm everywhere.
While at the very same time,
I'm never anywhere.

I guess I'm like that cat.
Permanently divided.
If you take away all my lamps.
Well I'd be delighted.

then there was that time you needed help
you reached out from the dark
and couldn’t find my hand
because it wasn’t there
my absence wasn’t apathy
it’s just that I can’t presume to think
that it’s my hand you wanted to find

My scales never found balance.
I'm not sure I'd ever want them to.
I've managed to elude serenity so far.
By keeping my plates in sway.
I find solace in the rarity of those quiet moments between the sun and the moon.
The high is better because it's fleeting.
Or at least that is what I tell myself in those moments of chaos.
My nirvana will be here soon.

It was in October.
The rain fell ******* tin roof over the deck.
There were only three candles left but there was plenty of wood to burn.
There was a ash colored teapot.
The fireplace sat between two windows that overlooked the lake.
I couldn't tell if you had been wearing the same stretch pants for two days or if you owned multiple pairs of that color.
A blanket of crimson cashmere draped over the back of the couch.
The kitchen smells like bacon, the livingroom of old cedar.
The stars found solace in your eyes that night.
As did I.

She's a momentary lapse of reason. A case of temporary insanity. Your entire perspective on life will change the moment she licks her lips.
She's poetic chaos set to Tchaikovsky against a backdrop of life moving in slow motion.
Much like alcohol she is both the cause and cure to all of life's problems. Even going so far as to leave you wondering if you're the problem.
You're that one guy at the poker table who's spent the last hour trying to find the sucker only to realize it's you.
She's a satin sunset that can move through you like the ghost of every dream you ever had.
Her eyes can leave you feeling stretched. Turned inside out and yanked from your mortal coil.
You'll learn to transcribe Ulysses in Latin from memory before you ever understand her fully.
She stares at the moon because they understand one another.
The trick is to let her run herself out.
Once she's exhausted all her tricks.
That's when you find out who she really is.

I imagine I'd make a good dog owner.
Because I wouldn't establish myself as it's owner.
The dog and I would be equals.
I'd let it up on the couch.
Take it for car rides.
Reward it with treats.
And teach it to be disgusted by children to the point where it starts gagging whenever a child comes around. It'd revile them for the ineptitude and ignorance.
I could teach it how to sit and how pass judgement on people before getting to know them based simply on their hairstyles.
We'd go to the park and play frisbee then we'd get high and mock others openly.
I'd probably name it something cool like Cerebrus and then whenever anyone asked what it means the dog and I would look at each other and laugh while pointing at the inquisitor.

As if he'd waded across the Salton Sea with the weight of the sun on his back.
Skin stretched and smoked, thin hands strong like talons.
I'd seen that look before.
Tired, resolute, and dark.
He pulled a bone knife from his boot and splayed his left hand on the bar palm up.
He didn't even press his lips to the bottle. Unable to swallow as fast as the whiskey poured it spilled over.
One more look over his left shoulder he pressed the point of the bone knife into his palm.
Sliding the blade up toward his fingers he then pulled it back towards his wrist along a different line.
Folding back his flesh he reached into the cut and removed a key.
A fierce wind rushed in from the south as if chased by some ancient god bent on revenge.
Every door and shutter flung open, candles extinguished.
I looked pass the stranger out into the night.
A storm highlighted by stilts of lightening approached.
I relit the candles and checked on the horses, nervous but still tied to the posts.
The stranger folded his flesh back into his palm and held it over the candle.
Reseated before him he motioned for my hand.
I unfurled my palm on the table and he placed the key dead center.
I closed my fingers around the key and he squeezed my fist chanting a language long thought dead.
I unrolled my fingers to find the key had sunk into my flesh.
"The key must always be passed from hand to hand, all will die should it touch land. That storm will follow you for the rest of your days or for as so long as you bear the key. It must never catch you. Or all is lost. Though from now on. You are immortal."
The stranger stood before the door and breathed deep.
His horse made no sound as he disappeared into the darkness.
I looked down upon my left hand wherein the key, a relic of some ancient magic, now resided.
I looked up at the storm approaching.
Foreboding reminder of the chaos that would become my life from then on.
I finished off the whiskey.
Stared into the candles flame.
Freed the axe from the block and rested my key bearing hand where so many chickens had lost their heads for the sake of a stew.
I brought down the axe and missed.
Just the tips of my fingers on the first try.
Quickly before my mind was to catch on to my carnage.
I brought the axe down again.
This time I was successful.
My left hand.
Cursed and abandoned.
As if it'd betrayed me somehow and was now banished.
I do feel bad and yeah it hurts quite a bit.
Though I'll be ****** if I'm going to spend my life outrunning a storm for immortality.
I tossed my hand into the fire and lit a cigarette.
Once the hand is consumed, the key will sink into the ashes, and we can all burn together.