the face behind the pancake

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I awoke to rain. Pit patter on the window. I awoke to the same old thing. I lost control and started falling. These dreams just torment my dilemma; Recede my seething tongue. Somehow we found the piercing lights that strike us in the morning. Redressed distress forfeits to misery. Somehow we've drowned. Bone dry but filling up the coffers. With less confessed, we find that truth won't fit this. I can't leave these conventions with red blood on my hands. I awoke to pain. Hammered out are the windows. I awoke to the shame and sting. I felt so cold I started calling for the life I was meant to take deceiving my long lost chance at pride. We're in this marathon racing forward, and I've made the first mistake for we bleed the gasoline. With the balled up fists you had and the rhythm that you new. So what's the point of this if we never meant to show. We live between the lines of what we've sacrificed and what we have to gain. I'm looking for the separation; I'm looking for the reasons why. I'm looking for the separation of what we've left behind. Smoke and mirrors paint the same things so we'll set the fire to the gasoline.

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from Grooming Standards, released February 12, 2011

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