the live edge over the dead core

my mind feels the pressure of having to be

and i am not at the times i am not

so i ask my mind to forgive me

it says what i think it says but sometimes it turns into

m-s, a mess

amassed a great deal of fortune

but there is a catch

i'm not to enjoy it until

i take my rest

like god on a sunday.

it's easy comparing yourself to god

even easier to say we're all gods

we're not gods,

all the time.

sometimes we're petty

often lack the pretty, our tune isn't always catchy

sometimes we're killers

we're always killers

every being is a killer

light is killer of dark

object is killer of space

space is killer of existence

and i am the killer of me

an ever-growing tree