I start to think sometimes of things that slither and dance to some beat other than the one i hear coming from my own feet. And it makes me think about summer, and watermelons, and how evil both could be. And as the beat beats more and more and i swore and swore i wouldn’t change my very steady sway, I began to see sometimes little blips and bleeps, all along my way. And long before long, I find that my out of rhythm feet, are back onto beat again, but its them that changed and not the thoughts in my unsure, undersized brain. So i refrain from diving deep, into anything because my fucking feet, can’t even reach the edge, and i wonder sometimes of the things i’d find just below the ledge, and i ponder sometimes, if id survive, over on the scary side.