quantus

i was the tiny flare,
once,
all blowin' up festive,
half crazy red glare on Eastern good luck charm,
that much light,
refracted decibels,
breaking through the ink stained skies set on blotting out the sun,
silencing every suckerfish inside my head thumping,
maybe winter's gonna sick its long toothed bite into my october fragile skin,
but i'm ready,
now,
the gringo who ate the city,
one big old gulp of tragic comedy,
cause when you can laugh at your scars,
that's when life gets beautiful,
and my life's getting beautiful,
same day i started spouting truthful answers,
in hopes of getting honest responses,
on the advice of another man,
but i don't know how long it takes,
this anxious zealot trying to expedite the clock handles forward,
maybe when we rewind the future,
it'll all make sense,
everything without place,
falling into keyholes,
'til then i'll keep my breath on hold across graveyards,
as a little laughing wish,
for another today