(Un)Holy Ambiguity

I can feel you
Rolling the wind
Over the hills,
Over the bend.
I can feel you
Drinking my sin
From a cup
Broken
From summer's din.

I will eat you.
I will starve.
I will cut you
Out of the stars,
I will break you
Into tiny bits,
But what will
Come from any of it?

Good Morning Goliath

There's a TV on somewhere
In the
Background
Someone is moving towards
My room. There's that
Feeling
Again
Feeling
Again...

Oh no...

Fate is upon me.

I'll pretend to sleep,
But here
Comes Colossus,
Ready to
Finger-jab my
Soft spots and
PRESSURE
o
i
n
t
s

Until I reluctantly rise
From my sheets,
And stumble into some clothes.

Such were many a morning
Of my youth,
Now nothing but nostalgia,
I guess I'm a man now,
Suppose
I have to rise on
My own now,
Free from those
Dreaded
Tickle-fights and
My Good Morning Goliath
Of adolescence. They're
Gone now,
When I
Probably need
It the
Most.