I look like a desk.
I feel like an airport.
I woke up this morning
with an all-too-familiar feeling
of claws.
I feel priviledged enough to die.
no comprimises at the whiskey creek saloon
no honesty either.
no love.
no castle.
well, hello.
I got no patience for having no patience.
I've been falling like the rain.
my eyelashes are the goddamn horizon.
who needs a piano
when there are plenty
of trolley cars in the sea?
this is a hero's trial,
something to make me a better person.
fuck heroes, who needs 'em?
the only way to win is to not play at all.