My feet are tired of walking this eternal rhyme that in time will only prove ridiculously sublime, undefined and refined, confined to absolute values that amount to absolutely nothing, but dust, composed of earth, after rust has formed.

Illusions of confused toes and hands make castles out of sand, because dreams won’t form these fortunes and mold them into reality… I’m almost positively certain, that I’m some Martian forced to land on earth, by some foreign technicality…

I must be quite the monster….

Eyelids look beyond the presence of youth into the wisdom of wrinkled skin, looking back on the journey traveled used as a tool to unravel the soul within… I think that this is a new trip, with a new spin…. Counted by the Dracula who stole my dividends … But what could he have found in my thinly veiled pockets that I hadn’t already searched for? Maybe he thought that he could have found something more, than I could that is.

I wonder how his account must look now.

Maybe it is just as empty as mines, give or take a dollar a two,

I bet he thought that he would find riches to end all poverty within the seams of my jeans,

His eyes had this gleam that said I know what it really means, to want a whole treasure chest of dreams that won’t find their way to surface and become real.

God do I know how that feels,

Just hurts… Pain that has no measures or worth…

I think that I want to go back to the womb now, start over and resume now, I think I know why the song is called bittersweet now,

It’s just a taste called life that leaves something both sweet and sour in your mouth, wonder how it will all play out…