Surgical Sugar

For Fin, I miss you buddy.

Make it safe sounding on my tongue

Smoke out the corpse syndrome

And suffer through the thought on your own

Hiding in the blanket cold brown syringe to trade

For all my fingers

Lungs wrapped in caved cube

Tell me what all this means.

It doesn’t matter anyway

There’ll be a force to stop your plan

It didn’t go how I wanted

Pendant is out of place

It’s a shame I can’t control this place forever

I told a lie and couldn’t hide, is now the last chance to change the tide?

In a language my hands can’t hold I hesitate

All here is not a chosen soul

I don’t hear the difference in our veins 

You saw it all as a mistake of a mind

Lust your body’s rest recalling your soul's test

Owning your perception of the pit in the south coast

Bubbling spoon would it at all matter?

A year away from chasing perfect feeling

What does it look like?

Why did I ever listen to someone like you?

All you had is what I wanted yet 

I needed nothing you could give me

Other disconnected lights

I’m connected to nothing

Screaming at everything

Just to make something look like art

Without trying to write right

Can I swim far enough away? 

What I can’t believe is alive

Would time give me answers?

Will the walls give me room to breathe?

I won’t go another day with this constant

Only to resurface the surgical sugar