Day 16,096

I'm not done trying to save my self
To save face, to get brave, to limit my range of motion
From high hills to blue ocean
In between, I'm stark and lean

I've been told I'm old and mean and sweet and young
But there are complicated locks and handles
That fool even the trickiest vandals
Those floating legends we held in high esteem
She's the color of a candida dream
He's keeps honor in his extra-large sleeve
Neither knows it but they're helpless in the sun

I'm so so sick of trying to save my soul
Selling out, moving out; besides it's ill-defined
Soul is body, mind is soul
Mind and body are one, I'm fat and well-fed

I was reminded yet again of my tendencies and tricks
Selfish acts that look selfless to the masses
Who cover their eyes with knockoff sunglasses
I'm all set to tell the truth if it's what you need
Truth is, the truth is what we believe we believe
Love is what we think of when we kneel down and grieve
Simple steps lead to complicated kicks

It's not over, this saving of myself
It comes down to quiet sleep and slip-sliding laughter
From the one-way one-lane in the seaside city of today
To a long long time ago, the four-lane
Leisure ride through Pennsylvania Dutch, just rolling along

Written October 5, 2009