Bring me joy in all its kaleidoscopic colours;
give me life, for all its unrepentant bummers.
We’ve all been rudderless, and curmudgeons once or twice, but misery loves its company and I’m happy to supply its vice.
Sad thoughts in the hundreds, so I ain’t playing nice tonight; liquor and pills and 1990 stills, cardboard guilt in a dice-shaped box, and I’m caught between taking a chance and calling it a night.
Time is money, darling, so spend what you got.
Indulge the insomnia of your world rocked, so you can watch its daybreak; sit and watch helplessly your dreams go belly up so they can evolve into tempting fate.
Embrace your misguidance, for these are the moments it takes to finally find your way.
Try to see another’s blindness as the cost of perspective, his resentment a collection of the colours he craves, but will ultimately not appreciate.
Try not to pray a prayer ringing foreign to you fails, because decorum is frail, and its alternative pales in comparison.
So bring me joy in all its barren glory, a black and white story if Sunday comics won’t do, at
four in the morning in case I’m not awake before noon.
Give me life, rather than poltergeists; teach me to love because something clearly’s gone awry.
If you’re going to hurt me, do it right the first time.
Write me a future, does not matter if it rhymes.