Juggernaut

Old places fade hard. No matter how long you row upstream, the water still makes waves that carry the rest of us away. You are what you weep, from your head down to the sleet. Fell, tripped up the stairs to a place void in all hints of home. Watch with your heart, run with your gut. Careful not to lose the fragile beauties of motivation. A whir of warning winds signal me back to birth. Old places fade hard. No matter how long you row upstream, the water still makes waves that carry the rest of us away. Watch with your heart, run with your gut. Watch with your heart, run with your gut. Our fight keeps using a voice that needs rekindling. I promised wet weather to myself from the moment I set foot into my own autopsy. Past all the shimmer, beyond the urine-stench left by conglomerates of those without a set of eyes to make contact with. Watch with your heart, run with your gut. Watch with your heart, run with your gut. Primate winds blow me back to old bloodstreams.