Stepping stones,
That puff of weed,
On the rooftops trying to reach for the silhouetted sky from the resting sun,
Unsure of the night,
Where this high will take us to,
Then our demons too,
Bound by the actions of our minds-the obscenities going through our them,
That free world we’ve spent eternity craving for,
The power to rule our lusts and make merry of our problems,
Dissolve in the vibe and get used to the sounds of ravaging storms,
In our minds, creating waves that sweep of our fears in the context of trying out the impossibles,
Risks,
Gathering the courage to soar to new heights,
To those clouds, chosen of nine,
Till our wings fall and we breathe no more,
Live outside the boundaries of life commissioned by existence of factions that dismiss our beliefs and ideas to predijuces and misconceptions,
Taste illegal and the pain of scoring to success,
But then,
What are we?
What do we stand for,
Which are the elements that initiated our design and creation outside the Bible stories and speculated theorems,
Which is the code that scripted our minds and drove us together to this point where…
We can’t have replays no more because we’ve done ourselves more harm than good and it all feels so good,
Like we went out of script in life but still had a shot in winning the Oscars.
Curse me if I’m tripping and out of my mind but don’t play with my wild child, am so attached to that rage,
We make beds with roses and burn our passion till the break of dawn,
Her voice is art in the chill of the night, she calls angels from the skies to come write a Shakespeare story of this romance.
Pillow fights and drunk arguments,
Feed us with more insanity, this love feeds of it,
We have dreams to explore new niches,
The grass is greener but from our side its blue,
We’re faded on the sips of this liquor but we still grind groins in our hallucinations,
Dreams,
Read that in those crazy fairy tales of enchanted fiction but our ghosts don’t sleep,
Up all night wandering over our thoughts of each other,
Everything about us is weird and complicated but the thought of ordinary is too tragic to our course so…
Add more contrast to my shadow,
Fate may condemn us to the fires of hell and lifelong torture but we’ve done enough living and created heaven of it.
Go put that short dress and the red stockings,
Tonight we’ll dance in the fire till our flesh is swept away as ashes by the morning breeze,
French kissing on the velvet couches till our tongues bleed, The we will repeat all that tomorrow like today never happened,
Like were are all experiencing a head rush and now the high is over we go back to passing another round,
Tonight we have sex on the ceiling so switch on that record and play some jazz and soul,
No,
Some Rock and Roll!
[ I WILL MARRY THE WILD CHILD IF I COULD]
Photocredits : Super model – Alexisnereah [WILD CHILD]
@alexisnereah
alexisnereah.wordpress.com/
& NAMU
@troublesleepin
The Gold & Sugar 