Stab Me No More

The eyes are warning signs.

Dying on the edge of reality.

Thoughts of tomorrow grabbing me..

As I’m washed away with the morning tide.

Rushing to live because we’re born to die.

The mind is a minefield.

Memories explode into vivid clips making it hard to forget how dark times feel.

Our energy combined gives me spiritual spine chills.

I know it was God when your wine spilled.

The universe is my gym.

Lifting supernatural weights in a dark and distant realm.

At war with demons.

I got a few sores but most of them

are missing limbs.

For the sake of long lost Tim.

Our white, long, sweeping meat-butcher coats shake in the wind.