grass stains

new mind frames
are current forms of grass stains
my out of body experiences are something so intricate
i can't begin to find words to explain
its a recurrence of sounds, things split in the fit
the tussle, and the hustle, the bustle of moonlight fright
we ran from that awful sight, the woman glowing in the night
telling me that she was alright, but that was just her scary side
looking back at the grass stains that i had on my pants
after i fell, running from that income tax
finding spirits that were lifted
finding people that were gifted
we were just little kids, sitting in tire swings with big dreams
not to understand that there were evil money schemes
hunting down the past that was shattering
forced through the disconnected Internet connections
left on the ground for things that we rhymed
it was a simple time, egos dropped and fate was cast
we had nothing but the reminiscing of the past
taking back thousand word pictures
recounting the reverb inside the searches
taking time off, never felt so wrong
i called in to work, told them i was hurt
they never made a question just fired me first
asked questions once they took the test
i told them i set my friendships to rest
resting in pieces of my mirrored images
masking my fate with the infant memories i digest
something resting on my chest
cinder blocks are the heaviest
throwing things into the youthful breast
my time hath come, lost faith in young
new words scattering over my leaky water beds
talking words way over audiences' heads
need to meet those intellectuals
need to meet those individuals
need to meet ones accepting wake up calls
talking to ones who can spell
taking myself into a self made hell
kicking pails of limp sails
political progression quick as snails
giving you things to think about
never felt like a devout
but thoughts that did re-rout
I'm missing time, running down the line
train tracks of isolated confidence
derailed trains of my instance
new hunts, new scents for skunks
running down the hills
stumbling
taking breath (I'm still hunting)
breathing deep (still searching)
sliding on the grass (looking for innocence)
green grass stains my past (washing my past)
washing my past
looking in my soul, to try to fill the holes
looking in my soul, trying to fill the holes
looking in my soul, where's the concrete?

~looking forward to future friends and listening to ridiculous amounts of Sage Francis

Love,
Digress.