Random Scratchings on Yellow Note Pads

-The dawn of the rotation of the sun pushes time closer and the focus tighter on this destiny.

-The “I” pushes the universe forth, making clean cuts and shaking loose pieces of my sense of misguided trust.

-Struggling to maintain a way to make change; my mind seeks your reflection again and again.

-Strange new phases replace familiar explanations; excuses for mental abuses

-I resolve to evolve.

-Of it, but not able to be in it, The “I” is consumed by it.

-Denied it, failed at it, goddamned it.

-The “I”, blue black with sirens blazing, sees the coping of the game spinning down around the way – girl after girl – in love with the twirl.

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