Stick

The feelings want to sabotage; 

Nothing sticks, except for the synapses of these re-occurring emotions, like triggers, waiting to bust. 

Because nothing sticks. 

What comes first, love or the fuck? 

And while I know, nothing sticks, 

Not love, so certainly not THAT fuck..

And I am beaten and worn down from nothing sticking, and getting stuck 

Constantly. 

The fuck. Life, is a game, is a cunt, bitch, dick. 

Cuz nothing sticks, 

But I'm always getting stuck. 

The Dangling Vines

I leave my life dangling. 

She knows the dew drops of dawn, as morning tears and sweat. 

She is the devil that rides in cloaked flesh, and given the chance for redemption. 

We intertwine, dangling some more, as flowers become the blossom of our love on two branches. I make anew, where love was, 

As love will ever be, 

And as I will let it fly from me, and fly away, into another life once more.