Sighed. Drove up East Avenue. The sky was faded blue.
The trees were bare, with roots resembling both my lungs when seen with shoots.
I hold my body still. My limbs go limp until
I feel I've had my fill of morning rituals, a sugar pill.

But to ever be without certain thoughts would make me doubt
the life I'm leading. I'm just sick of always pleading for a flawless mind.
And I know these are the kind of thoughts that put me in this bind,
questioning what I've made. I'm just beaming, teeming, seeping with this sort of pride.

Sighed. Drove up East Avenue. I split my mind in two.
I came upon a spot where everything made sense, and went right through.
And that's the way you start. You pull your life apart,
and a priceless work of art means absolutely nothing at its heart.