I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

my blankets are breathing
i pick my scab over and over
i pick my scab over and over
i pick my scab over and over
keep your eyes open

Step off a shaky cliff
And let yourself fall
Into the wonderfilled abyss.
Let your worries slide
Out of your weary soul;
Just let the good feelings glide.
All around you see the color wheel
In the form of puffy clouds that stick
Deeper than your skin and away you peel.
Layer by layer you steadily unravel
Mysteries about yourself that scrape
Each other like pieces of gravel.
You let this happen all in one instance
So a spark may form as you
Free fall for an unknown distance.
Your heart is then forced apart
In an explosive and sudden burst
When you back flop onto a giant dart.
The tip pierces through your skull
And shatters the walls of your
Deepest thoughts leaving nothing to mull.
You fall further as hearts pass your eyes
As well as stars and a fuzzy face;
It's clear now as to what caused your demise.
You fell
You have fallen
And you will forever
Fall
In love.