the appearance of choice is the killer.
within its grasp, anything is possible.
I can treat the sky as pink,
water is gray, or grey.
that unhealthy habit is a piece of a ten-step guide that will net you eternal sleep,
what everybody needs.
my alarm clock won a grammy award,
its acceptance speech was cut short by a fierce hand.
it’s an ocean of fish and we do not sparkle.
I choose not to follow these currents, I am unafraid to fight these rapids.
my sky is pink,
water is gray or grey.
I’m the shark.
I’m the fierce hand.
I am your death wish,
handed to you on a silver platter.
but do not call me the buddha,
I have not been awakened,
my ego lives on.
I choose to hit snooze.