Lunch Money

I remember his madness in all things

And the way he kind of smirked while he casually acknowledged the intertwining truths and lies that stood in the midst of accomplishment and failure, which were apart of Our Journey, or rather just the fault of mankind

I guess it was sort of beautiful, sort of fucked

But the truth is sad, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.

Truth is naked, Truth is vulnerable.

Yet it is better than living in between the comfort of lies

    coming to terms with the madness that lies under the surface appeals lonesome, but is then a structure able to hold its own

     in the way it is said to be so beautiful when we fall in love with someone else’s flaws

becoming beautiful on what you shed disgust over

Hey, that’s beautiful.

Do I acknowledge the truth, or let the facts fall away with my Sunday church dresses

Do I swim out to sea, or stay in the comfort of the sunrays that have risen and fallen everyday I have.

Do I stop using my allowance on school lunch because I know a cigarette does you well while you mute out your mother’s screams over the misplacement of her alcohol even though her humility was lost ages ago and never attempted to be found.

But I guess we supply the Lost- and-Found is these types of given situations

I listen to your dark heart because my eyes would not be equipped to enhance my ability to come to understanding the pain you truly feel

We feel more in the dark than we can ever see in the light

I am his home

I am his stability

I guess I am his Lost- and – Found

And I keep looking back

Looking front

And every time I look, I seem to be more lost than found.

- C.C.