Untitled

there are nights I'm stuck in the elevator between the street floor and the floor of my heart. the light is shining on me and I dance with myself like the world had already gone. I've got shoes full of dust and a head full of wires, but they don't lead me anywhere. I laugh because the pain laughed at me first. I'll ask the wall, who said I need to be strong?

I'm a soul gladiator without a helmet, I fly to the war with a gray old t-shirt, dancing on the fear, like a street light that forgot his name. I sweat out my questions. that's my funk, a hallway for meditation on the floor. between a shout and a whisper I find another layer.

some mornings I forget my name but I remember every mistake in bright colors. the city drinks me with a long straw and I let her, maybe she's tired too from hallucinations.

I hold the cigarette like a promise never born, my head is spinning like the moon. I hear laughter from a broken sidewalk, I say to myself maybe all those cracks are just a runaway door

I'm a soul gladiator without a helmet, running to the war with a gray old t-shirt. dancing on the fear like a street light that forgot his name. I sweat out my questions, that's my funk. hallway for meditation on the floor between a shout and a whisper I find another layer

give me a meter of peace under all those sirens, I'll spin around until the pain forgets my name. if every dance is a prayer, I will kneel on the road and wait for the green to light my soul.