Kindness gets its kicks too

Can’t get the kicks if you don’t throw the punches, spend your days with the wicked, live off their hunches.

A litre of laughter keeps the doctor at bay but surviving off of humour doesn’t keep it away.

And when the last lightbulb flickers before it blows up a supernova you sit in your armchair and wonder is a house a home ya? Or is a house a prison and a home is an ideology, codology, mixology. What’s your prescription of ology?

And you’re truly as good as it can get but you know that you’re not switched on yet.

There’s a hum, that you’re on but like everyone, you need to click. Just like you can’t really light a candle if there’s a hesitation in the wick.

And so some are bonfires burning fields of glorious convulsions, and so some are fight or flight, the one life, impulsions, and so some are those without certainty but a hell of a lot of gumption. What ‘sion are you?

And what about water, the strength of a fall, to know someone fully or to not know them at all. They say as right as rain is all well and good, but to swim in someones flood is to be understood.

So you can get your kicks out of a raging storm but be warned. For when you watch a soul precipitate, you proved that they are worth the wait.

Which they are.


Be certain because getting your kicks by lighting their wicks,

leaves someone in light and the other just burnt out.