self doubt and chocolate dribbles
as above
when we were a tad younger
possibly even a wiser than now,
we strode the days like pirates
and the nights like i don’t know how,
we braved each hour as a safe bet
and each eve as a chance to atone,
but bravery is a loose old garment
which gives the wicked something to hold,
and as east and west became a bloated gut
and the stars became just a torch beam dying,
the world we created began to crumble
forcing satire to be a homecoming,
and the feet we squeezed into old boots
shed a tear as the blisters popped to an ooze,
as our separate gods were in cahoots
laughing as we both could only lose,
