trixie what is it all
but only an outpouring of
seeping ruminations
to examine one's own
if the late hours
and only realizing just now
that this is the first time to sit
in one's own living room, ever.
and to realize
that after it all
after the deathgrip
could close so tight and so close
and one and as one with the clench
"so when the music's over"
find one's beat
and understand finally
after the times
the hours and the closing in
that my maker must believe in me!.
ha, to think that my team is up above,
heaven-bound and holy,
to have let me live
in rotten sewage and hate
allowed me to surpass the drudge
and sit alone and silent
in my own empire
fulled realized that i had built from
a fatefull fall, once,
for myself.
it is not me that has the luck
the will to bite down, survival claws,
my maker, it is he
who knew it was all going to plan
a master one
and to see clearly that
one day while watching the eternal flame burn
down to a bit
that it is only i
i alone
who can extinguish the burns
but he,
maker he,
who could let me burn.
jane meet_your_maker 070517
what's it to you?
who go