Anonymous said: Random but on Riot Fest instagram there is a pic of you crowd surfing!
It’s an unfair paradox when your favourite fruit is forbidden;
When the missing piece, the last one you need, sits in someone else’s puzzle.
As though in the packing process an over-tired worker dropped it in the wrong box,
setting in motion a perverse twist of fate resulting in two useless products.
Is there a toll-free number I can call to complain to, maybe be given a replacement?
I imagine twenty-one years later this particular puzzle has been discontinued
and so they’ll try to push a coupon for half-off my next purchase.
As if I’d dismantle what I’ve put together and settle for an inferior option.
It’s an unsettling concept that I won’t waste another thought on.
I’ve been waiting for peace of mind,
and she’s the only piece that fits.
Which brings me back to that paradox
where my two choices are set in two stones that oppose eachother,
pushing together with a force stronger than what broke Pangea into seven seperate continents.
How long before my own skull splits into bone tectonics?
If I survive I’ll still be living with that cerebral shift;
a human representation of Earth’s continental drift.
My sanctuary is in those strong hands that my hold head together as
the softest skin pours through fractures and fills the faults,
that voice of unmatched compassion composes the rhythm with which
an orchestra of fingers sews the stitching to.
It’s that touch that takes my sense of time away
and repairs the damage done by this perilous process
of choosing which way to push when you’re between a rock and a hard place.
I will fuck this up, I fucking know it