fiery soul

a glimpse of the next twenty or so years
moments flash like the sun glare off a passing car
i'll never find love on my own
so looking in the attic will take me nowhere

the idea that selfishness followed me, makes me want to break it like old lightbulbs
smashing glass bottles in the dumpster in the back ally way

KOL cries, "draw me closer"
i think it's appropriate
like watching parenthood, and seeing how people without Jesus try to function. there is no normalcy outside of truth. inconsistent frailties and roots of bitterness incline everyone to kill or be killed. glass box, of being contained and withheld, but it seems to be worse, because you see through your prison to what you are restrained from and kept to. is sanity freedom or is it binding? restrictions seem to either hold the willing or force the exile to break the rules.
clearly there's an invisible bifocal line, with vivid, then real. kids fall and cry, but only for a moment. not because it hurt, but because the world is terrifying. within twenty minutes, it's all but forgotten, so it doesn't matter. we're all dying, the question is, to what degree. and we aren't living if we're worried about dying.

i saw a kite flying in a field, and as i drew closer to it, i saw the string attached to a corpse, and that corpse was self indulgence. it looks pretty from far away, but the closer you get, the more you see that it's a facade. highlighters.