all along the watchtower

i’m at my best
when i’m dead
but with this god complex
i just keep coming back

i do my best
when you’re just a fading figment
distorted below the lapping waves
of the ocean of memory
between you me and the evermore

i see you now
just another porcelain dollhead
chipped, cracked and dusty
all along the forgotten shelves
mombi’s potential on parade

you’re falling away
or maybe i’ve leapt up and out
away from this cavernous wellbottom
not toward freedom or flight
but to a better death