Burn Away the Bad We Built

"for a minute there, i lost myself"
so sayeth Thom Yorke
and so sayeth myself

            would you believe,
       if I asked you to?
     escape.....
                    
      I can feel....something coming.
     
               a premonition of sorts
                and I'm scarred
          but i welcome whatever comes with wide eyes and sweaty palms

 perhaps,
  I'll be carried out to sea by this wave...
or perhaps I'll simply drown on salt water...
            no matter what I write...
       they'll know...
             they'll judge.
   accepting as they are
          and perhaps it's best that I'm judged
that we are

                                I have trouble with self analysis.
maybe that's no trouble at all

                  but I love it so much.
sleep between the pines
             we can start a fire there.

and burn away the bad we built.
              the water's deep, so we'll walk on stilts

I can still hear that scream
              
and see
and feel
and smell
and taste
and most of all

when I'm alone

...imagine