Mean Green Machine

What is true to you,
May not be true to me.
What you see may be solid,
Physically.
What I see?
Is too abstract for one to manifest in their own reality.
The insanity of sitting down and writing for hours on end?
Equates to every goal I achieve as I reach the next step of success.
With deep lines I attest to seep down into the middle of your chests…

As a monster tested by the murky waters of alcohol,
Ice began flowing through my veins.
With a life on the rocks,
I’ve taken so many shots to the point I fade away…
Fade away into bed sheets where I make way,
Into nightmarish dream states insidiously…

Kind of like my own Little Shop of Horrors,
As some “Mean Green” keeps begging for my lips.
The more I see myself planted,
Living backwards,
The urge doubles up!
Until the very moment that “Mean Green” is lit.
But,
The more I think about whom I love,
I’m in awe dreaming of a life where we both lay in Bliss,
Hoping that spark is enough to finally burn that crumbling bridge…

A separation saving my life by,
Picturing our demise within my own mind,
Manifesting it into existence,
The more I had faith and trusted my vision.
Knowing my thoughts were making the difference.
Even if my thoughts were invaded by a past infringement,
Broken promises of Her never leaving my side no matter what kind of friction…

So,
I let it all go.
Every bud I kept blowing right into my lungs instead of writing to the beats of Love.
How I love Poetry and her body so voluptuous!
Because,
That green?
So mean!
Will always grow back from the one seed we forget to crush.
Poetry,
And all of it’s beauty,
Just keeps me from,
Ever picking it back up…
Why allow yourself to go up in smoke,
When you can dream past our clouds above!
And reach for every single thing you feel you are worthy of…