Spotless

Down in the dirt I dressed my best,
for it gave me perspective.
Without worth left to contest,
my heart grew cold and selective.
Like the dark knew I’d depart you,
and must have marked a chart of clues.
Too construed or unglued,
for this part shark detective.
So hark the late clean slate,
seems the fates are selective.

You can shine a spotless mind it seems,
with booze and benzodiazepines.
So thank you for your time,
but I’ll be F.I.N.E.(Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, egotistical -louise penny)
Though the grapevine paradigm,
won’t slow the teeth
of my fears as they dine.
For despite the years
of steady, decadent decline.
I’ve been shut out on the porch,
in the superfluous sunshine.

So, feel free to fucking hate me,
and the fake way that my brain bleeds.
But I’ve been made grateful lately,
for the unpaved plateful fate leaves.
With the cards so clearly stacked against me,
I’ll build a house of bent queens,
and pray that they sway gently.
Or they’ll crush my sad sentry,
standing guard,
charred at the entry.
To all the gold that I hold moldy,
and scars past sadness sold me.
Call me collapsable old creep,
incomplete, kicking myself with cold feet.
I just miss the old me,
cruising careless and toll free.