A million little fires burning across vast escapes of the sea
And either here nor there or if or could
Will change the roads we've walked and the millions of ghosts we've whispered our fears to
Nor can the force of our faith make manifest the many ways we plea for the universe or great unknown to show us that we are not alone
In the end you die like you dream, you say over and over, wishing with every last bit of every muscle and fiber to be seen ...
to change the course of so many herstories
But our wishes are empty words on air that they never bear witness to
Our pride a beast following little traumas that stack up like a dam holding back fierce waters that flow like menstrual baptisms
Holding onto anything and everything
Thinking all of life or this moment or maybe the essence of our being comes down to the question of whether another whiskey will be fatal to the peace of mind you have - or pretend to have after the end of it all.