Go on

Just get me back from the gates of what you thought was hell…
To some it was the gate of heaven,
to this keeper of my brothers secrets,
it is up to the individual to know what is on the other side of their veil,
there is no way I can determine what the afterlife is for you,
that is not up for me to decide.
I can only being you to the threshold,
I stand on the edge of this gate,
and there is no pass code you can falsify to get by,
there is nothing you can steal to prove that you deserve to get locked in the tunnel,
this is why we have breeze ways, causeways,
and tunnels to flush out the minds that get lost in their dreams,
or those who venture out of view,
don’t worry,
I have rear view mirrors in the back of my eyes,
so you can find your way back through and get on with the damn thing,
that life that you wish to see come to fruition,
that space that had no marks on it before,
but now you’ve sprayed paint on the walls that some consider sacred,
and this street art looks like graffiti to those who tried to stake a claim on my personal hallway that leads back through the pineal gland.
It was once so calcified that when the bones cracked,
the crystallized recollection of lysergic acid had to melt and mend the gland back together,
sealing the fractures,
enhancing my vision,
acting like a fun house to those who saw from the outside,
but a reflection of my past to my own minds eye.
They called me out of my mind,
and I collected the saltine crackers that were left as the body of christening a whole new format of blessing the blood my veins.
Don’t tell my mother about my fetishes anymore…Padre already knows,
and who cares if my fairy godparents are fictional in terms of scientific theory.
Thanks for helping all of us through this damn difficult blockage of hydro electric dreamscaping catcher in the rye, plain and simple,
as above,
sew below,
seams like this patched your plot hole perfectly balanced.