The clotted mind forever hungers
It craves our bliss
It craves our honor
It craves our sanity
Misplaced words are eternally housed
among the hippocampus,
I look upon his figure resentfully
His words held such destruction
He stands before me
Rage becomes my skin
Within the fire I hear two words
whispered "My bucket",
I'm seven again
Huge frames cover brown eyes
Blond hair blows in the summer breeze
Frog hunting the game
We pounced upon unsuspecting souls
relentlessly,
Muddy puddles rippled as we giggled
I was the bucket
You were my heart
When his words bring rage
My bucket
My bucket
My bucket
Smothers my insanity
