Spilling out onto the ground in black slicks,

some of it right onto my feet,

some of that heat will escape,

and some wont ever be deleted.

and It’s been said the music has always been too loud and now its known the scars don’t heal as fast,

they linger,

they sleep

and I can count them.

Like the heat, and the oil,

headfirst into the sun,

headfirst into something.