Tickling the lobes, Ideas beware
I am pulling through this sludge
Shoulder deep, strong
Fuck the grip.
Bound but still in control
The deep end is my home,
...and I have to wonder,
Chilled grin in tow
What life would I know- without this?
For there is, invariably...
The 'Flip Side'
...and eventually, I will own it.
I ask myself
I stop myself
I wither from time long-spent in the galley of 'why'?
...and then I re-hydrate...
From hope,
Potential...
Understanding.
When I'm sinking,
The squeeze and squelch of my swallow
Delivers those tears to the depth of my belly
Sucking in...
Slapped by the dreaded, '...but...'
Enough!
If I am to succeed in this life,
I'll fuck the '...what if...' into the ground
And ride it's wake into Victory.
I never got ahead thinking that I may fail
I never smiled wider from taking the 'easy route'
I need do the slapping now,
Taming fear that burrows beneath my nerves
Attempting to fuck my love for the 'risk'
Risk is everything,
When the gamble is right.
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