the moral middle of the road

Everyday is Halloween

as we dress up as sinners

or saints

when the reality

is somewhere in the middle.

 

None of us are as good

or as bad

as we paint ourselves

or people paint us to be.

 

We are all capable of great evil

and magnificient good

but none of us are clean of 

the other.

 

We pretend we are as good as we think

putting on masks and surrounding ourselves

with so many lies,

and half-truths even,

and the kind of friends that tell us how

special and amazing we are

and how we couldn't have been in the wrong.

 

And that's where the best of friends matter

to tell you you're an idiot

and that you made a serious mistake

or five

but you're still alright,

because you can always fight for redemption.

Redemption

Love is broken,
Enter redemption,
Marching on mountains of skulls
Decayed bones powdering under the grinding wheels of time.

There is being and time,
But time destroys being cyclically,
Being as cancer exterminated by time’s radiation.

It’s enough to give you morning sickness,
At least a gut filled with bike hatred and profound boredom,
The nothingness slaps against walls of anger,
Maybe righteous,
But passionate for sure.

Life’s lemons are not free,
You pay in time,
But they are sour as fuck.