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...
When I'm sinking,
The squeeze and squelch of my swallow
Delivers those tears to the depth of my belly
Slapped by the dreaded, '...but...'
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.