Unbalanced, unclean, and unstable.

Spin. Spin again. Now this time, expand each elbow, wave each pose; and being to spin so hard that you can feel every chemical inside of your brain sizzle.

Now stop.

Breathe in slowly.

Open your eyes.

Upon yourself a reflection. A once mirrored idea that you had all control of your life, now displays one ugly ass truth.

Now reach forth.

You can't touch anything. You can not hang on. And now you are beginning to feel a bit feeble.

Stop.

Close your eyes and notice that you are beginning to feel nauseous.

Again you open your eyes only to notice that you have no direction at all. No matter how hard you try to focus: that one focal point too... seems so distant.

Someone tries to reach out to you, only to help you remain so stable, but in your blurry haze.. they too appear so unstable, unbalanced, hazed, and unclean.

So what do you do?

Just close your eyes.

And keep spinning.

Dearest D. West

You are so delicious, sexual, awakening, and unlawful for my self image.
"A professional? How can you begin to point?"
Every ounce of me is levitating within myself for I feel no sin.
You sire claim such innocence, yet it is you that left such a deep abrassion. I'll take whatever you're giving... which is never enough.

You call yourself a writer, yet you leave such pauses announced. You call yourself a poet, but your lyrics have no rhythm. If it is true that I am everything that you want to be: Forget to inhale.

Left foot first. Eyeliner smudges excused. Close your eyes, D. West... and balance, awaken, forgive, but leave a memorable impression.