5-12-09
So you take your insides
and you thrust them through my chest,
I feel, I feel everything,
It gets to be too much, my chest is melting
from the inside tears…
I don’t cry, no, but it hurts,
I don’t make a sound but inside I,
inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show,
I don’t cry no, but what kills you,
kills me too.
So I take your tears and I
insert into my eyes and that’s how I cry,
I feel, I feel everything,
When it’s too much, I force myself to melt
cut my arms wide…
I don’t cry, no, but it hurts,
I don’t make a sound but inside I,
inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show,
I don’t cry, no, but what kills you,
kills me too.
So I take you and adopt your pain,
I throw myself into it and I,
I feel, I feel everything
you feel and more,
When it’s too much I start to cry,
When it’s too much I start to bleed,
I can feel my shoulders sinking…
so slow.
I don’t cry, no, but it hurts, (like hell),
I don’t make inside but inside I (scream),
Inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show (on my face),
I don’t cry, no but what kills you (hurts you)
kills me too.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
4-12-09
The world is not running from you,
You are running from the world,
Just remember that.
Do you even know what it feels like to just
sit still for a second?
Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightening, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that intentional? They ask, dumbstruck.
You are running rings round the world,
But never ever stopping
for sight-seeing.
Don’t you have the urge to look at beautiful
landscapes at all??
Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightning, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that iintentional? They ask, dumbstruck.
Whoa, whoa just a blue bit of wind,
Hands grab at nothing but air,
But scream ‘why are you running so fast?’
“Well, so I can get away, get away from…
Hell, I forget but it sure looked scary”,
But you’re just circling the world,
Avoiding life like the plague,
And your feet are burning away.
Your feet are b-b-b-burning,
Hell kid, they are giving off steam,
You need to s-s-slow down,
Covering up your past with dust,
Blinds your enemy but yourself too,
I know you hate yourself, intentionally…
But kid, clear you eyes won’t you,
Halt to a stop for a minute and look around.
The world is not running from you,
You are running from the world,
Just remember that.
Do you even know what it feels like to just
sit still for a second?
Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightening, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that intentional? They ask, dumbstruck.
You are running rings round the world,
But never ever stopping
for sight-seeing.
Don’t you have the urge to look at beautiful
landscapes at all??
Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightning, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that iintentional? They ask, dumbstruck.
Whoa, whoa just a blue bit of wind,
Hands grab at nothing but air,
But scream ‘why are you running so fast?’
“Well, so I can get away, get away from…
Hell, I forget but it sure looked scary”,
But you’re just circling the world,
Avoiding life like the plague,
And your feet are burning away.
Your feet are b-b-b-burning,
Hell kid, they are giving off steam,
You need to s-s-slow down,
Covering up your past with dust,
Blinds your enemy but yourself too,
I know you hate yourself, intentionally…
But kid, clear you eyes won’t you,
Halt to a stop for a minute and look around.
3+4-12-09
You know that moment when the superhero
says something real bloody noble like
‘you should be with him, he’s safe, I am troublesome’
or cuts your heart with a ‘I don’t love you’ but its all for
her own protection.
This is a little like that except I am the villain
who just wishes she was a hero.
I am the villain just wishing like Hell I could be a hero.
You know that moment when the superhero
says something real bloody noble like
‘you should be with him, he’s safe, I am troublesome’
or cuts your heart with a ‘I don’t love you’ but its all for
her own protection.
This is a little like that except I am the villain
who just wishes she was a hero.
I am the villain just wishing like Hell I could be a hero.
1-12-09
And oh, fingers, please,
bend and break, stop writing
for just a minute, please.
aching fingers and burning knuckles,
I crack and stretch them after every line,
And oh, fingers, please,
you’ve been writing too much lately,
It’s never a good sign,
Tells me your peace of mind
is still standing on that ledge,
that you can’t view from here.
And oh, fingers please,
give me a break, or write
something worthwhile,
for once, please,
make someone understand.
And oh, fingers, please,
bend and break, stop writing
for just a minute, please.
aching fingers and burning knuckles,
I crack and stretch them after every line,
And oh, fingers, please,
you’ve been writing too much lately,
It’s never a good sign,
Tells me your peace of mind
is still standing on that ledge,
that you can’t view from here.
And oh, fingers please,
give me a break, or write
something worthwhile,
for once, please,
make someone understand.
1-12-09
I cannot imagine what was going through your mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could think it up,
such a hurtful, messed up lie
that showed me you’ll never get it,
understand what you mean to me,
don’t even bother to attempt,
you’ll never get it, understand it.
I cannot imagine what was going through that mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could that,
such an (unintentional) lie.
Did you know even know you were lying?
And is lying if you think you’re telling the truth?
I cannot imagine what was going through your mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could think it up,
such a hurtful, messed up lie
that showed me you’ll never get it,
understand what you mean to me,
don’t even bother to attempt,
you’ll never get it, understand it.
I cannot imagine what was going through that mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could that,
such an (unintentional) lie.
Did you know even know you were lying?
And is lying if you think you’re telling the truth?
1-12-09
We never really fight but we never kiss either,
at least never with meaning,
And we smile at each other and hold hands,
But we both know there’s nothing really there,
‘Cause I am craving someone else,
And you are happy to live a lie.
Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
I know you’ve heard me screaming her name,
but you block your ears,
and you somehow, still manage to cast me smiles,
And hold my head tight when I’m crying,
But would you hold me if you
knew I was crying over her?
Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
Or maybe…Hang on, just maybe, this’ll work…
Would it relieve you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it relieve you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
Let me know if this works,
I’ll leave this out for you, so accidently,
When I pack my bags and I run away,
Don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
I don’t want you as much as she doesn’t want me,
So don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
But thanks for, thanks for killing a few months with me.
I’ll send you a postcard from hell, baby.
We never really fight but we never kiss either,
at least never with meaning,
And we smile at each other and hold hands,
But we both know there’s nothing really there,
‘Cause I am craving someone else,
And you are happy to live a lie.
Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
I know you’ve heard me screaming her name,
but you block your ears,
and you somehow, still manage to cast me smiles,
And hold my head tight when I’m crying,
But would you hold me if you
knew I was crying over her?
Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
Or maybe…Hang on, just maybe, this’ll work…
Would it relieve you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it relieve you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?
Let me know if this works,
I’ll leave this out for you, so accidently,
When I pack my bags and I run away,
Don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
I don’t want you as much as she doesn’t want me,
So don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
But thanks for, thanks for killing a few months with me.
I’ll send you a postcard from hell, baby.
1-12-09
You know when someone moulds their lips
preparing their words – you see it in their eyes
and you see their tongue – a potential weapon
start to propel and the air winds up and those lips
get ready to tell…
Wait. Stop. Rewind. What the hell did you just say?
I’ll press pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind, play.
I turn the volume up full blast and place my ear
right next to the speaker. Pause, rewind, play,
pause, rewind, play. I press zoom upon your eyes,
Could you really mean those words your lips
just produced?
You know when someone’s thinking of what
to say and you see it in their furrowed brow,
And then it lifts and all the wrinkles fade and
you can see the thinking taking place even in the
shape of their mouth…
Wait. Stop. Rewind. Laugh, you’ve got to be kidding.
Pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind play, my god,
how my ear is killing me. Pause, rewind, play.
Pause, rewind, play, I’ve already memorized every,
every single word you said that hurt me. Could you
really mean them?
You know when someone’s about to push the air
out with their lips and create a lie with their voice
or even the truth can hurt just as much, but you
know that moment you see the air start to move
in front of their face and the sound is creeping…
And you just want to take that piece of air in your hands
and shove it right back down their throat, lean in close and whisper,
“Don’t say a fucking thing, I promise like hell you’ll regret it,
I promise.”
And now, you cannot take it back.
Even if you say you didn’t mean it.
You cannot take it back.
And I cannot glue the skin in place.
And we can’t take anything from the past back.
And how I wish…
And you can’t take anything back.
You know when someone moulds their lips
preparing their words – you see it in their eyes
and you see their tongue – a potential weapon
start to propel and the air winds up and those lips
get ready to tell…
Wait. Stop. Rewind. What the hell did you just say?
I’ll press pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind, play.
I turn the volume up full blast and place my ear
right next to the speaker. Pause, rewind, play,
pause, rewind, play. I press zoom upon your eyes,
Could you really mean those words your lips
just produced?
You know when someone’s thinking of what
to say and you see it in their furrowed brow,
And then it lifts and all the wrinkles fade and
you can see the thinking taking place even in the
shape of their mouth…
Wait. Stop. Rewind. Laugh, you’ve got to be kidding.
Pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind play, my god,
how my ear is killing me. Pause, rewind, play.
Pause, rewind, play, I’ve already memorized every,
every single word you said that hurt me. Could you
really mean them?
You know when someone’s about to push the air
out with their lips and create a lie with their voice
or even the truth can hurt just as much, but you
know that moment you see the air start to move
in front of their face and the sound is creeping…
And you just want to take that piece of air in your hands
and shove it right back down their throat, lean in close and whisper,
“Don’t say a fucking thing, I promise like hell you’ll regret it,
I promise.”
And now, you cannot take it back.
Even if you say you didn’t mean it.
You cannot take it back.
And I cannot glue the skin in place.
And we can’t take anything from the past back.
And how I wish…
And you can’t take anything back.
I do this thing where I sit on my bed,
or on a train, or as I walk the streets,
or eat my breakfast, or my lunch, or my tea,
Or as I lie there just trying to get some sleep,
Or as I try to hold steady a conversation…
where I list and loathe every mistake I
have ever made, and every stupid action
makes it way under the microscope and I
dwell on it, glued my eye to the glass,
Now I can’t pull myself away without
prying away my eye and god, it hurts,
and for every single mistake I remember,
I do this.
And to what result, to what consequence,
Only that of making me hate myself more than I
already did, only that of bashing myself up internally,
It would have happened anyway, now it just happens more harshly,
But I tell myself it doesn’t matter anyway and despite
the fact that I know I am the biggest liar, somehow I
let myself believe that my feelings don’t matter anyway.
or on a train, or as I walk the streets,
or eat my breakfast, or my lunch, or my tea,
Or as I lie there just trying to get some sleep,
Or as I try to hold steady a conversation…
where I list and loathe every mistake I
have ever made, and every stupid action
makes it way under the microscope and I
dwell on it, glued my eye to the glass,
Now I can’t pull myself away without
prying away my eye and god, it hurts,
and for every single mistake I remember,
I do this.
And to what result, to what consequence,
Only that of making me hate myself more than I
already did, only that of bashing myself up internally,
It would have happened anyway, now it just happens more harshly,
But I tell myself it doesn’t matter anyway and despite
the fact that I know I am the biggest liar, somehow I
let myself believe that my feelings don’t matter anyway.
1-12-09
The joke’s on those who use smiles
as umbrella’s, don’t they realize a frown
would suit much better?
You see if you’re always awaiting disappointment
you never really let yourself get your hopes up,
You can’t really be thrown too hard to the ground,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…
I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below me just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.
Life is always throwing us challenges
and I always just shove ‘em in my pockets,
Deal with ‘em later.
You see if you procrastinate just enough,
You can kind of force yourself to forget what’s real,
And then you’re in a sacred place – escaped the world,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…
I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.
And you see, if you set yourself up for disappointment
you’re not really hardening your shell at all,
“Just painting the world in an unfair colour” some would say,
but how do you paint in a colour you’ve never even heard of?
And how do you recover from such a significant blow?
Defence turns into offence and protection falls away ‘cause it was never was,
And all this work to harden a shell but you don’t realize the shell has been breaking
right from the start and the more protection you offer the more it breaks
under all this, under all this weight.
The joke’s on those who use smiles
as umbrella’s, don’t they realize a frown
would suit much better?
You see if you’re always awaiting disappointment
you never really let yourself get your hopes up,
You can’t really be thrown too hard to the ground,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…
I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below me just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.
Life is always throwing us challenges
and I always just shove ‘em in my pockets,
Deal with ‘em later.
You see if you procrastinate just enough,
You can kind of force yourself to forget what’s real,
And then you’re in a sacred place – escaped the world,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…
I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.
And you see, if you set yourself up for disappointment
you’re not really hardening your shell at all,
“Just painting the world in an unfair colour” some would say,
but how do you paint in a colour you’ve never even heard of?
And how do you recover from such a significant blow?
Defence turns into offence and protection falls away ‘cause it was never was,
And all this work to harden a shell but you don’t realize the shell has been breaking
right from the start and the more protection you offer the more it breaks
under all this, under all this weight.
5-12-09
I look back on all my work and figure out
I could not write a thing while you were near,
Took over my mind and my fingers too, I guess.
I can never let this go, I can never have this
taken from my fingertips, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express everything through this.
When my fingers stop working I start to get
a little panic start to build inside – oh, what if
I never write again, I get terrified, I guess.
I can never let this go, this can never be
extracted from my insides, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express only through this.
I express only through this.
This is my only outlet.
My only way…
I look back on all my work and figure out
I could not write a thing while you were near,
Took over my mind and my fingers too, I guess.
I can never let this go, I can never have this
taken from my fingertips, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express everything through this.
When my fingers stop working I start to get
a little panic start to build inside – oh, what if
I never write again, I get terrified, I guess.
I can never let this go, this can never be
extracted from my insides, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express only through this.
I express only through this.
This is my only outlet.
My only way…
3-12-09
Sitting, awaiting, allowed my mind to wander…
I am engulfed with the disgusting urge
to tackle a stranger right onto the tracks,
And whisper “I am so sorry” and yell over
the roar of the wind “I could not live
but I cannot die alone, Hell”, I scream,
“this is it” and I hold her in a protective
embrace ‘cause I never meant it to come to this.
I was a modest soul with a death grip hold,
And childish motivations put me in this situation,
“I don’t want to be alone, wah”,
Noble aspirations in a murder investigation.
Fear of what comes after drove me to this,
And I think we made a word just for situations
such as these ; that of irony.
Sitting, awaiting, allowed my mind to wander…
I am engulfed with the disgusting urge
to tackle a stranger right onto the tracks,
And whisper “I am so sorry” and yell over
the roar of the wind “I could not live
but I cannot die alone, Hell”, I scream,
“this is it” and I hold her in a protective
embrace ‘cause I never meant it to come to this.
I was a modest soul with a death grip hold,
And childish motivations put me in this situation,
“I don’t want to be alone, wah”,
Noble aspirations in a murder investigation.
Fear of what comes after drove me to this,
And I think we made a word just for situations
such as these ; that of irony.
Friday, December 4, 2009
25-11-09
Have you ever, ever felt so desperate
that you just go “well, I’ll just kill myself”
and as an alternative – plan b, “I’ll walk
around in the dark until someone murders me”,
Have you ever, ever felt that desperate?
I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, that feeling inside
like you are fighting uphill and not meant to survive,
Like there’s been a plan right from the start
and you were destined to carry so many scars
on your heart, like you were meant to feel alone
every second of every minute or every hour,
and there was nothing to do about it at all.
I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, keeping secrets,
so tight in between your teeth, and crushing
them, holding back your tongue with all your strength,
but you don’t feel strong, just incredibly weak,
you can’t stand still, your hands are always on the shake,
every second of every minute of every hour,
and there is nothing to do about this all.
I wouldn’t wish it away though, it’s all I know,
how else do people live, they must be so oblivious
that such a feeling can exist, where you feel so worthless,
so empty, so alone, so messed up inside
your very own head, your enemy.
And they could cut me, yes, they could cut me
wide open and separate my ribs, rifle through
my organs and dig, dig, dig,
but they won’t find an answer, not deep in there,
or not in my brain either so save yourself a waste of time,
you can’t find a physical memoir of feelings other than
the scars on my arms and over my body,
but this is me telling you how it feels to have that feeling
like you were never ever meant to survive,
and I’m telling you it is impossible to understand.
Have you ever, ever felt so desperate
that you just go “well, I’ll just kill myself”
and as an alternative – plan b, “I’ll walk
around in the dark until someone murders me”,
Have you ever, ever felt that desperate?
I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, that feeling inside
like you are fighting uphill and not meant to survive,
Like there’s been a plan right from the start
and you were destined to carry so many scars
on your heart, like you were meant to feel alone
every second of every minute or every hour,
and there was nothing to do about it at all.
I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, keeping secrets,
so tight in between your teeth, and crushing
them, holding back your tongue with all your strength,
but you don’t feel strong, just incredibly weak,
you can’t stand still, your hands are always on the shake,
every second of every minute of every hour,
and there is nothing to do about this all.
I wouldn’t wish it away though, it’s all I know,
how else do people live, they must be so oblivious
that such a feeling can exist, where you feel so worthless,
so empty, so alone, so messed up inside
your very own head, your enemy.
And they could cut me, yes, they could cut me
wide open and separate my ribs, rifle through
my organs and dig, dig, dig,
but they won’t find an answer, not deep in there,
or not in my brain either so save yourself a waste of time,
you can’t find a physical memoir of feelings other than
the scars on my arms and over my body,
but this is me telling you how it feels to have that feeling
like you were never ever meant to survive,
and I’m telling you it is impossible to understand.
24-11-09
Your lips on my lips, can you feel me
shake? Your hands on my hips,
God, it’s so embarrassing just how much I’m shaking.
You do that thing with your tongue,
You let it creep in and I-I’m yours for the night.
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your tongue like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
Your hands on my hips, you try to
steady the shake they’re making.
And I’m going red from embarrassment but the lips
on my ears are making me red
from something, from something else.
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your hand like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
and i-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
My body, your bed, your body
in between the sheets with me,
Did I ever, did I ever think the day’d come? No,
I didn’t, the light is blinding me, so you switch
it off, at least you can’t see the embarrassment
strewn across my face, and god, won’t anything
stop the shakes?
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing the drink
all over my impulsivity,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
Will you take me for just a night?
Hell, do I have the guts to pray for longer?
Will you take me for another day?
Hell, do I have the guts to wish for more?
I’ve see, I’ve seen the way you dance,
And it creates a little friction,
And you look across that room and I see that grin
you grin when you know you just caught
your next victim. “Hey, hey kid, come on
over here, to the dance floor, let’s get nice
and close and in the morning, well, we’ll
just see, we’ll see” and I knew you’d
cast me, let me go.
‘Cause you know what you want
so well, so unlike me, so I scull,
and you say ‘kid, you had enough,
let’s make out, let’s make our way…’
And we make our way up the stairs,
So typical, you pull on my hand and I stumble
after you up the stairs, not caring about anything
but getting close to your body tonight,
One night or one year stand, doesn’t matter
right, right, right now.
Your lips on my lips, can you feel me
shake? Your hands on my hips,
God, it’s so embarrassing just how much I’m shaking.
You do that thing with your tongue,
You let it creep in and I-I’m yours for the night.
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your tongue like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
Your hands on my hips, you try to
steady the shake they’re making.
And I’m going red from embarrassment but the lips
on my ears are making me red
from something, from something else.
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your hand like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
and i-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
My body, your bed, your body
in between the sheets with me,
Did I ever, did I ever think the day’d come? No,
I didn’t, the light is blinding me, so you switch
it off, at least you can’t see the embarrassment
strewn across my face, and god, won’t anything
stop the shakes?
‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing the drink
all over my impulsivity,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.
Will you take me for just a night?
Hell, do I have the guts to pray for longer?
Will you take me for another day?
Hell, do I have the guts to wish for more?
I’ve see, I’ve seen the way you dance,
And it creates a little friction,
And you look across that room and I see that grin
you grin when you know you just caught
your next victim. “Hey, hey kid, come on
over here, to the dance floor, let’s get nice
and close and in the morning, well, we’ll
just see, we’ll see” and I knew you’d
cast me, let me go.
‘Cause you know what you want
so well, so unlike me, so I scull,
and you say ‘kid, you had enough,
let’s make out, let’s make our way…’
And we make our way up the stairs,
So typical, you pull on my hand and I stumble
after you up the stairs, not caring about anything
but getting close to your body tonight,
One night or one year stand, doesn’t matter
right, right, right now.
24-11-09
L-l-lips on lips leads to hands on hips,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But hands on hips lead to bodies on bed sheets,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But b-b-bodies on bed sheets lead to wandering hands,
Getting into the grey area now aren’t we?
And wandering hands lead to muffled screams,
Yeah, I think this is a pretty dark shade of grey,
But if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But if it were someone else, I’d left it at lips on lips.
But l-l-lips lead to hands on hips,
And hands on hips eventually lead to clasped hearts,
And clasped hearts come after clasped bodies,
Not quite the conventional order of things
but since when was this conventional?
We’re passing through the area of shades now,
Nice and quickly, way too quickly, went my heart,
‘Cause bodies in bed sheets led to mornings
with only pillows and regrets to keep me company.
L-l-lips led to hands on hips and hands on hips
led to a night and morning between the bedsheets,
And if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But it’s the opposite for you,
If it weren’t’ me, it’d be whoever stood across the room,
If it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
if it weren’t me, you’d crawl into someone else’s ear,
Bu do they like the ear thing as much as I do? cause
you got down-pat all the places to p-pat me in,
And get me…
L-lips can lead to hips but I should’ve formed words
before I jumped into bed with you first,
L-lips can find hips but I should’ve found conditions
before I let you continue your tradition,
Of wining , skip the dining and jump straight to the bedroom,
On one foot ‘cause the other is limp,
And just how much did I have to drink?
And just how sober are you?
You’re so used to this, just setting your alarm
nice and early and plugging in your earphones
when they fall asleep so you can wake up and
make your escape through the door before any
movement is happening and you never ever look back,
But now you’re looking back…
‘Cause lips on lips led to lips on hips, led to hands on
legs, and led to all that unspoken activity between
the mattress and the blanket and on the pillows,
And keep the noise quiet – ‘cause we’re not the only
people in this building…
But one night stands of lust turned to love,
And one night with you could never be enough,
And you pretended like you understood,
You thought that you could understand
A way that you’d never lived.
And now lips are reciting words and
there are so many shaking hips here, ‘cause
the absence of speech led to hearses,
And hearses led to tears and tear-stained
eulogies that were only delivered through sobs
and necessity.
“She saved herself for you”
And what did you do? Lips on lips, hands on hips,
Hands on hearts, and standing in respect,
And sweeping that hair out of her eyes like you’ve the right
but “You should have admitted it when she was alive”
And the fist hits you before the words,
And people are questioning who they feel more sorry for,
The girl lying dead in the hearse or the girl crying her heart
out on the bathroom floor, nursing a black eye,
but secretly wishing it would swell so bad so that she could
stop cursing her pathetic reflection,
And “I should’ve admitted it while she was alive,
And now I don’t think I could return to my old ways,
The tradition that got me here in the first place,
What good are lips and hips and hands and words
and hairs and strokes and beds and screams
if the person delivering doesn’t really mean a thing?
And hell, I wish this wasn’t a huge revelation…”
L-l-lips on lips leads to hands on hips,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But hands on hips lead to bodies on bed sheets,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But b-b-bodies on bed sheets lead to wandering hands,
Getting into the grey area now aren’t we?
And wandering hands lead to muffled screams,
Yeah, I think this is a pretty dark shade of grey,
But if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But if it were someone else, I’d left it at lips on lips.
But l-l-lips lead to hands on hips,
And hands on hips eventually lead to clasped hearts,
And clasped hearts come after clasped bodies,
Not quite the conventional order of things
but since when was this conventional?
We’re passing through the area of shades now,
Nice and quickly, way too quickly, went my heart,
‘Cause bodies in bed sheets led to mornings
with only pillows and regrets to keep me company.
L-l-lips led to hands on hips and hands on hips
led to a night and morning between the bedsheets,
And if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But it’s the opposite for you,
If it weren’t’ me, it’d be whoever stood across the room,
If it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
if it weren’t me, you’d crawl into someone else’s ear,
Bu do they like the ear thing as much as I do? cause
you got down-pat all the places to p-pat me in,
And get me…
L-lips can lead to hips but I should’ve formed words
before I jumped into bed with you first,
L-lips can find hips but I should’ve found conditions
before I let you continue your tradition,
Of wining , skip the dining and jump straight to the bedroom,
On one foot ‘cause the other is limp,
And just how much did I have to drink?
And just how sober are you?
You’re so used to this, just setting your alarm
nice and early and plugging in your earphones
when they fall asleep so you can wake up and
make your escape through the door before any
movement is happening and you never ever look back,
But now you’re looking back…
‘Cause lips on lips led to lips on hips, led to hands on
legs, and led to all that unspoken activity between
the mattress and the blanket and on the pillows,
And keep the noise quiet – ‘cause we’re not the only
people in this building…
But one night stands of lust turned to love,
And one night with you could never be enough,
And you pretended like you understood,
You thought that you could understand
A way that you’d never lived.
And now lips are reciting words and
there are so many shaking hips here, ‘cause
the absence of speech led to hearses,
And hearses led to tears and tear-stained
eulogies that were only delivered through sobs
and necessity.
“She saved herself for you”
And what did you do? Lips on lips, hands on hips,
Hands on hearts, and standing in respect,
And sweeping that hair out of her eyes like you’ve the right
but “You should have admitted it when she was alive”
And the fist hits you before the words,
And people are questioning who they feel more sorry for,
The girl lying dead in the hearse or the girl crying her heart
out on the bathroom floor, nursing a black eye,
but secretly wishing it would swell so bad so that she could
stop cursing her pathetic reflection,
And “I should’ve admitted it while she was alive,
And now I don’t think I could return to my old ways,
The tradition that got me here in the first place,
What good are lips and hips and hands and words
and hairs and strokes and beds and screams
if the person delivering doesn’t really mean a thing?
And hell, I wish this wasn’t a huge revelation…”
26-11-09
It’s only a lie when it’s bought,
It’s only the truth if it’s sought
for, fought for and won,
but that’s a rare occurrence,
Worse than slaying a flame
throwing dragon.
Lies create a new question for you,
Two sides - what you choose
to believe is the truth,
and what I choose to believe
is my truth, could all be slain
by thought.
If I wasn’t’ so pessimistic
this would be so simple.
You live in the truth where I am so content,
and everything screams “perfectly well”
I live in the truth where I am all dead
just stuck in a body that functions perfectly well,
I am waiting for the batteries to run out,
Waiting while I scream ‘I’m not perfectly well’
but your world knocks back pessimists
just like mine slays optimists.
The power of thought, free will
really could overpower all of this,
if only I had the guts to let it.
But I am a gutless liar thriving
on pessimism – dead soul,
living body.
What a dilemma,
What a dilemma I am.
It’s only a lie when it’s bought,
It’s only the truth if it’s sought
for, fought for and won,
but that’s a rare occurrence,
Worse than slaying a flame
throwing dragon.
Lies create a new question for you,
Two sides - what you choose
to believe is the truth,
and what I choose to believe
is my truth, could all be slain
by thought.
If I wasn’t’ so pessimistic
this would be so simple.
You live in the truth where I am so content,
and everything screams “perfectly well”
I live in the truth where I am all dead
just stuck in a body that functions perfectly well,
I am waiting for the batteries to run out,
Waiting while I scream ‘I’m not perfectly well’
but your world knocks back pessimists
just like mine slays optimists.
The power of thought, free will
really could overpower all of this,
if only I had the guts to let it.
But I am a gutless liar thriving
on pessimism – dead soul,
living body.
What a dilemma,
What a dilemma I am.
somethin' different.
25-11-09
Uh uh oh, I think it’s more than a pity
that you’re date from last night has gone missing,
No-one’s heard from her in twelve hours
And you were the last one seen with her.
And the camera’s caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you leading her to your car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened after that,
But what did you do with her afterwards?
Did you add another to the graveyard
in your backyard? There sure is a lot of holes
and stuttering explanations – we’re
gonna get you for this, put you to shame.
And the camer’a caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you and her in your fancy car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened in that car,
But what did you do with her afterwards?
You’re just a part of that club who
prowls on a Saturday night, think
you gotta make the best of it whilst
you’re at the height of your youth,
You lock ‘em, tied up, in the boot,
And drive round ‘til their screams stop,
And then you chuck ‘em in to the hole
and you leave a little marker on top,
It’s not a name, but a number,
It’s not a name but another number
down in your book, you won’t keep getting
away with this.
The camera has gone missing and so has
the leading cop, and you were the last one
seen with her too, and our suspicions
are rising on you but you’re such a charmer,
A few dead girls don’t seem to matter,
As long as you take me home too, I don’t
mind If it means I have to die, I hear you’re
the best, no, no this isn’t a set-up sweetie,
Let’s unplug the camera and make it to your…
Uh uh oh, I think it’s more than a pity
that you’re date from last night has gone missing,
No-one’s heard from her in twelve hours
And you were the last one seen with her.
And the camera’s caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you leading her to your car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened after that,
But what did you do with her afterwards?
Did you add another to the graveyard
in your backyard? There sure is a lot of holes
and stuttering explanations – we’re
gonna get you for this, put you to shame.
And the camer’a caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you and her in your fancy car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened in that car,
But what did you do with her afterwards?
You’re just a part of that club who
prowls on a Saturday night, think
you gotta make the best of it whilst
you’re at the height of your youth,
You lock ‘em, tied up, in the boot,
And drive round ‘til their screams stop,
And then you chuck ‘em in to the hole
and you leave a little marker on top,
It’s not a name, but a number,
It’s not a name but another number
down in your book, you won’t keep getting
away with this.
The camera has gone missing and so has
the leading cop, and you were the last one
seen with her too, and our suspicions
are rising on you but you’re such a charmer,
A few dead girls don’t seem to matter,
As long as you take me home too, I don’t
mind If it means I have to die, I hear you’re
the best, no, no this isn’t a set-up sweetie,
Let’s unplug the camera and make it to your…
24-11-09
I am picking at all my scars
to ensure that they all last -
reflect the fissures in my heart.
I am picking at every scar
to ensure that they all last -
so my outsides can slightly resemble
my insides, my hurting heart.
I got loose bits of skin and dried blood
all stuck up and under my nails, feels
a bit grotty but the razor holds more
than my nails and anyway, it acts as some
kind of sign so I know all this suffering
is real, isn’t just some sick show inside
my head.
I doubt myself every day and I second guess
every decision that I make and I still make
an unusual amount of mistakes but I think
I crave just stuffing up ‘cause I’m not sure
how normal is, what normal is, I can’t
trace the letters quite straight or find
the words at all.
I will pick at all my scars
to ensure that they all last
just as long as the ones inside.
I will play with all my scars
to ensure that they all last
I will make them bleed again,
light up my skin like the stars.
I will pick each and every scar
so my skin can slightly resemble
all the fissures inside this heart.
I am picking at all my scars
to ensure that they all last -
reflect the fissures in my heart.
I am picking at every scar
to ensure that they all last -
so my outsides can slightly resemble
my insides, my hurting heart.
I got loose bits of skin and dried blood
all stuck up and under my nails, feels
a bit grotty but the razor holds more
than my nails and anyway, it acts as some
kind of sign so I know all this suffering
is real, isn’t just some sick show inside
my head.
I doubt myself every day and I second guess
every decision that I make and I still make
an unusual amount of mistakes but I think
I crave just stuffing up ‘cause I’m not sure
how normal is, what normal is, I can’t
trace the letters quite straight or find
the words at all.
I will pick at all my scars
to ensure that they all last
just as long as the ones inside.
I will play with all my scars
to ensure that they all last
I will make them bleed again,
light up my skin like the stars.
I will pick each and every scar
so my skin can slightly resemble
all the fissures inside this heart.
At The Bottom
18/11/09
I think the frays are beginning to show,
I’m making more slip-ups than ever before
and I feel like they’re just waiting for me to
slip up, or worse, get up and dust off and walk on,
and live on, and find some kind of will.
But I’m at the bottom of this hole, pulling
my sheets up over my head and using a
rock as my pillow – I’m not really sleeping
just hiding from my life and living off the
sewerage of the only pipes that are this far under the earth,
and it tastes perfect and sends me into temporary madness,
at least it was temporary when I drank it in moderation,
Now I let it settle on my tongue and refresh me
probably a little more than I should, but in a hole this deep,
what else is there I can do?
My skin is caked in mud and blood that I can’t seem to wash off
however much it dares to rain upon me, I am surrounded,
sinking in a pool of wet mud and my own dried blood as it flakes
a little and merges with the blood before it slathers itself back
on my hands, my legs, my face,
my arms, my nails, my toes
cop it the worst just scrunching in it but never really drying,
If I had a mirror, I don’t think I would recognize myself, I can
even feel flecks of this rubbing against my pupils, and they walk
past but don’t even cast a glance ‘cause they know the monster
that lives down there and they just try their best to ignore it,
to pretend it doesn’t exist, but they try sort through the mess to find me,
not realizing they can’t have one without the other, and they’re hands
just can’t dig and just can’t reach deep enough.
I think the frays are beginning to show,
I’m making more slip-ups than ever before
and I feel like they’re just waiting for me to
slip up, or worse, get up and dust off and walk on,
and live on, and find some kind of will.
But I’m at the bottom of this hole, pulling
my sheets up over my head and using a
rock as my pillow – I’m not really sleeping
just hiding from my life and living off the
sewerage of the only pipes that are this far under the earth,
and it tastes perfect and sends me into temporary madness,
at least it was temporary when I drank it in moderation,
Now I let it settle on my tongue and refresh me
probably a little more than I should, but in a hole this deep,
what else is there I can do?
My skin is caked in mud and blood that I can’t seem to wash off
however much it dares to rain upon me, I am surrounded,
sinking in a pool of wet mud and my own dried blood as it flakes
a little and merges with the blood before it slathers itself back
on my hands, my legs, my face,
my arms, my nails, my toes
cop it the worst just scrunching in it but never really drying,
If I had a mirror, I don’t think I would recognize myself, I can
even feel flecks of this rubbing against my pupils, and they walk
past but don’t even cast a glance ‘cause they know the monster
that lives down there and they just try their best to ignore it,
to pretend it doesn’t exist, but they try sort through the mess to find me,
not realizing they can’t have one without the other, and they’re hands
just can’t dig and just can’t reach deep enough.
Monday, November 16, 2009
16-11-09
Oh, “how time flies” and I search
for the window in desperation,
Where did it all go, I wonder as I
rush around the room, banging all the walls
trying to find the window I know
got covered up for my own good.
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
Oh, “how time heals wounds” in
my case it doesn’t at all, it used
to at least cover up the physical
scars but now they’ve been etched too deep
trying to find that biological clock to
tell me when all of this ends.
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
I, telling myself not to look down,
Place my toes just over the edge,
And hold the frame to keep myself still,
But I’m still swaying in the wind and
anticipation. I cast my face towards
the stars. I cast one last look around
the room I destroyed just trying to find…
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
I jump, pretending I think
I can fly.
Oh, “how time flies” and I search
for the window in desperation,
Where did it all go, I wonder as I
rush around the room, banging all the walls
trying to find the window I know
got covered up for my own good.
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
Oh, “how time heals wounds” in
my case it doesn’t at all, it used
to at least cover up the physical
scars but now they’ve been etched too deep
trying to find that biological clock to
tell me when all of this ends.
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
I, telling myself not to look down,
Place my toes just over the edge,
And hold the frame to keep myself still,
But I’m still swaying in the wind and
anticipation. I cast my face towards
the stars. I cast one last look around
the room I destroyed just trying to find…
The window, the weapon,
The paper, my plan in the lines
of a little diagram of a clock
with little angel wings jumping out
the open window, with me on the ledge
and without my wings, I…
I jump, pretending I think
I can fly.
Just friends
15-11-09
Do you remember the night I put my hands
on your hips and you brushed your finger over
my lips and then we let them meet but you
pushed me away, and whispered ‘just friends’,
And that’s the biggest punch line I ever heard.
‘Just friends’ turned into ‘with benefits’
and we spent the night between your sheets.
You kept whispering like you were convincing
yourself just as much as me ‘just friends’
And I think I pretended not to hear.
From best friends to the bedspread,
Never ever works and I should’ve known
when you whispered ‘just friends’ what I was
getting myself into, from best friends to
with benefits never ever works, and you
and me as just friends can never work again.
And in the morning, in your arms
felt like the perfect place to be but you
pushed me away ‘I have to get home’
I knew your parents were away but I let you go,
I think I hoped to convince you later.
Bu later came and you touched my hair
but you still said ‘just friends, remember?’
How could I forget that night and you murmured
‘I thought you’d be okay, you’re always saying you
want to be alone’, I thought I did.
From best friends to the bedspread,
Never ever works and I should’ve known
when you whispered ‘just friends’ what I was
getting myself into, from best friends to
with benefits never ever works, and you
and me as just friends can never work again.
So now I’ve lost my girlfriend, my best friend,
Not to mention the best sex I ever had,
So now I’ve lost my girlfriend, my best friend,
Lost her that night in the sheets when we agreed
to be ‘just friends’ but from best friends to having
to whisper ‘just friends’ is a transition that kills,
And never fails to fail.
Do you remember the night I put my hands
on your hips and you brushed your finger over
my lips and then we let them meet but you
pushed me away, and whispered ‘just friends’,
And that’s the biggest punch line I ever heard.
‘Just friends’ turned into ‘with benefits’
and we spent the night between your sheets.
You kept whispering like you were convincing
yourself just as much as me ‘just friends’
And I think I pretended not to hear.
From best friends to the bedspread,
Never ever works and I should’ve known
when you whispered ‘just friends’ what I was
getting myself into, from best friends to
with benefits never ever works, and you
and me as just friends can never work again.
And in the morning, in your arms
felt like the perfect place to be but you
pushed me away ‘I have to get home’
I knew your parents were away but I let you go,
I think I hoped to convince you later.
Bu later came and you touched my hair
but you still said ‘just friends, remember?’
How could I forget that night and you murmured
‘I thought you’d be okay, you’re always saying you
want to be alone’, I thought I did.
From best friends to the bedspread,
Never ever works and I should’ve known
when you whispered ‘just friends’ what I was
getting myself into, from best friends to
with benefits never ever works, and you
and me as just friends can never work again.
So now I’ve lost my girlfriend, my best friend,
Not to mention the best sex I ever had,
So now I’ve lost my girlfriend, my best friend,
Lost her that night in the sheets when we agreed
to be ‘just friends’ but from best friends to having
to whisper ‘just friends’ is a transition that kills,
And never fails to fail.
15-11-09
I sunk through every lie
To the core where you held me
to every word and I held you to
yours, not knowing you were spinning
a web around me the whole time.
Like a snap of the fingers,
The light went on and I could see
every little mark in this intricate
pattern you had created around me
and for a minute it was beautiful.
Every night we lied to each other
and we each thought the other
was buying every line but you were
reading my journals and I was talking
to your friends and we were getting home
just to exchange fake smiles and touches.
You’re trying to yell at me
For doing everything that you did to
me too and I’m nodding but saying
“then you’re admitting you were in the wrong too”
but you’re shaking your head.
“It’s different” you say,
But I can’t really see how – lights out,
“I touched them out of loneliness,
And you touched her with love,
I touched them ‘cause you weren’t
here even when you were next to me”,
And I cut you off, “It doesn’t matter,
she doesn’t want me anyway”
I see the tears emerge at the corners
of your blue eyes and I’m lying to myself
as well, but you already know that.
Every night we lied to each other
and we each thought the other
was buying every line but you could
smell my clothes, my breath and I heard
what you were becoming at every party,
It was impossible to escape.
And you say “It’s over”,
And I’ve begged away my breath
with strums and songs – words
are not enough this time and just
as you reach the door, you turn…
And whisper, “my eyes aren’t blue,
and the stupid thing is we both end up alone,
‘cause she doesn’t love you like you love her,
she doesn’t love you like I love you and you don’t
love me like you love her. We all end up alone.”
I sunk through every lie
To the core where you held me
to every word and I held you to
yours, not knowing you were spinning
a web around me the whole time.
Like a snap of the fingers,
The light went on and I could see
every little mark in this intricate
pattern you had created around me
and for a minute it was beautiful.
Every night we lied to each other
and we each thought the other
was buying every line but you were
reading my journals and I was talking
to your friends and we were getting home
just to exchange fake smiles and touches.
You’re trying to yell at me
For doing everything that you did to
me too and I’m nodding but saying
“then you’re admitting you were in the wrong too”
but you’re shaking your head.
“It’s different” you say,
But I can’t really see how – lights out,
“I touched them out of loneliness,
And you touched her with love,
I touched them ‘cause you weren’t
here even when you were next to me”,
And I cut you off, “It doesn’t matter,
she doesn’t want me anyway”
I see the tears emerge at the corners
of your blue eyes and I’m lying to myself
as well, but you already know that.
Every night we lied to each other
and we each thought the other
was buying every line but you could
smell my clothes, my breath and I heard
what you were becoming at every party,
It was impossible to escape.
And you say “It’s over”,
And I’ve begged away my breath
with strums and songs – words
are not enough this time and just
as you reach the door, you turn…
And whisper, “my eyes aren’t blue,
and the stupid thing is we both end up alone,
‘cause she doesn’t love you like you love her,
she doesn’t love you like I love you and you don’t
love me like you love her. We all end up alone.”
14-11-09
When I turned up at your front door,
You should have seen the look on your face,
And the colour on your neck almost matched the one
on my wrist and his head was glued to your shoulder,
And he looked at me, first in confusion and then he let
that little grin spread,, ‘cause he knew…
That you let me go, yeah you cut the rope,
The one tied to my wrists and your hips,
Disconnected the button I pushed to control that wire
that I clipped tight around your lips.
And he wore that grin on his face,
Like you wore those marks on your neck,
Like I wore the cuts on my wrists and I saw the way
his hands moved your hips close to his and it was just
like the way I used to lick my, kiss your lips, ‘til the night
you said ‘I’ll never regret this’ but in the morning…
When I pushed my way in with no plan,
You should have seen the look on your face,
The one where you start to panic and he unwrapped himself
from you and put up those fists and I looked at him while
you looked at me and he looked at you for some clue
on what you wanted him to do.
You let me go, all those promises I shook on,
you said I was the kid of your dreams , I was
til you decided to change and clip every word real tight
around my heart.
And now he wears that grin on his face,
Like you wear those marks on your neck,
Like I wear the cuts on my wrists and I saw the way
his hands moved your hips close to his and it was just
like the way I used to lick my, kiss your lips, ‘til the night
you said ‘I’ll never regret this’ but in the morning…
You whispered, after one night,
“I thought it was true, but now I regret every move,
I thought I was true, it’s not me, it’s you,
I thought we’d last but you’re so past,
I thought we were lust but you wanted love,
I thought we were true but now I regret every move,
It’s not me, it’s you, it’s not me, it’s you.”
And you screamed it again in my face,
“It’s over, you wanted more than I wanted,
And now I’ve got this beautiful boy and he’s so good in bed,
And we’re lust, not love, we’re lust, not…”
He looks at her and she looks back and realizes her mistake,
He takes one step back towards the door, and he realizes
his mistake and she realizes she’s done it again, and he
says, “This is what you do. Make us fall in love with you,
and throw us passionately to the sheets and whisper
secrets and no regrets, then you say it’s lust, not love,
and they always scream back ‘it’s love, not lust’, now I know
what you are.”
When I turned up at your front door,
You should have seen the look on your face,
And the colour on your neck almost matched the one
on my wrist and his head was glued to your shoulder,
And he looked at me, first in confusion and then he let
that little grin spread,, ‘cause he knew…
That you let me go, yeah you cut the rope,
The one tied to my wrists and your hips,
Disconnected the button I pushed to control that wire
that I clipped tight around your lips.
And he wore that grin on his face,
Like you wore those marks on your neck,
Like I wore the cuts on my wrists and I saw the way
his hands moved your hips close to his and it was just
like the way I used to lick my, kiss your lips, ‘til the night
you said ‘I’ll never regret this’ but in the morning…
When I pushed my way in with no plan,
You should have seen the look on your face,
The one where you start to panic and he unwrapped himself
from you and put up those fists and I looked at him while
you looked at me and he looked at you for some clue
on what you wanted him to do.
You let me go, all those promises I shook on,
you said I was the kid of your dreams , I was
til you decided to change and clip every word real tight
around my heart.
And now he wears that grin on his face,
Like you wear those marks on your neck,
Like I wear the cuts on my wrists and I saw the way
his hands moved your hips close to his and it was just
like the way I used to lick my, kiss your lips, ‘til the night
you said ‘I’ll never regret this’ but in the morning…
You whispered, after one night,
“I thought it was true, but now I regret every move,
I thought I was true, it’s not me, it’s you,
I thought we’d last but you’re so past,
I thought we were lust but you wanted love,
I thought we were true but now I regret every move,
It’s not me, it’s you, it’s not me, it’s you.”
And you screamed it again in my face,
“It’s over, you wanted more than I wanted,
And now I’ve got this beautiful boy and he’s so good in bed,
And we’re lust, not love, we’re lust, not…”
He looks at her and she looks back and realizes her mistake,
He takes one step back towards the door, and he realizes
his mistake and she realizes she’s done it again, and he
says, “This is what you do. Make us fall in love with you,
and throw us passionately to the sheets and whisper
secrets and no regrets, then you say it’s lust, not love,
and they always scream back ‘it’s love, not lust’, now I know
what you are.”
10-11-09
Is there anything left to say,
When I feel this bad every single day,
And all I think about is my last breath
And all I dream about is sinking into
these bed sheets that I seem to never leave.
Any comfort has long waved goodbye
With a razorblade in hand and scratching
cutting with every swing of the hand,
Goodbye, goodbye.
When there’s nothing left to annunciate,
And all I’m doing is to procrastinate,
My own stupid and sure death
And all I think of is sinking into
these bed sheets that I seem to never leave.
Any comfort has long waved farewell
With a toast “I’d wish you well but we both
know that would just split your sides,
Catch you, catch you”.
When every comfort leaves,
Where do you turn to?
When every rational disappears on you,
Where do you turn to?
When each and every reason to live
seems to be shrinking,
What do you do?
Is there anything left to say,
When I feel this bad every single day,
And all I think about is my last breath
And all I dream about is sinking into
these bed sheets that I seem to never leave.
Any comfort has long waved goodbye
With a razorblade in hand and scratching
cutting with every swing of the hand,
Goodbye, goodbye.
When there’s nothing left to annunciate,
And all I’m doing is to procrastinate,
My own stupid and sure death
And all I think of is sinking into
these bed sheets that I seem to never leave.
Any comfort has long waved farewell
With a toast “I’d wish you well but we both
know that would just split your sides,
Catch you, catch you”.
When every comfort leaves,
Where do you turn to?
When every rational disappears on you,
Where do you turn to?
When each and every reason to live
seems to be shrinking,
What do you do?
10-11-09
I watch the numbers move on the clock,
Watch the second hand move slowly,
Tick, tick tock. And I try to communicate
with my insides – like “stop feeling so
sorry for yourself”, like “snap out of it,
won’t you?” but it’s not really working at all.
I procrastinate by just staring at the clock,
Seems time’s moving way too slowly,
Tick…tick…tock. And I can’t communicate
with anything external, like I’d like to,
like, “I feel so empty”, like “I can’t even
move” I lie still in my bed, just thinking to myself.
My muscles feel like deadweights and I can’t
really even move at all, each breath feels like
an enormous effort, and my eyes seem to glaze over,
‘Cause I’m always getting ‘what are you looking at?’
and I can never quite answer, for sure.
I spend my life hating everything about the world,
Mostly I direct it all at myself,
I hate what I am, I hate who I am, I hate what I do,
I hate everything about my stupid, stupid self.
I hate everything about the world, mostly
the fact that I’m still in it, mostly the fact
that I’m a member of this society, I’m not
worth a thing, not worth a thing to anyone.
I watch the numbers move on the clock,
Watch the second hand move slowly,
Tick, tick tock. And I try to communicate
with my insides – like “stop feeling so
sorry for yourself”, like “snap out of it,
won’t you?” but it’s not really working at all.
I procrastinate by just staring at the clock,
Seems time’s moving way too slowly,
Tick…tick…tock. And I can’t communicate
with anything external, like I’d like to,
like, “I feel so empty”, like “I can’t even
move” I lie still in my bed, just thinking to myself.
My muscles feel like deadweights and I can’t
really even move at all, each breath feels like
an enormous effort, and my eyes seem to glaze over,
‘Cause I’m always getting ‘what are you looking at?’
and I can never quite answer, for sure.
I spend my life hating everything about the world,
Mostly I direct it all at myself,
I hate what I am, I hate who I am, I hate what I do,
I hate everything about my stupid, stupid self.
I hate everything about the world, mostly
the fact that I’m still in it, mostly the fact
that I’m a member of this society, I’m not
worth a thing, not worth a thing to anyone.
6-11-09
I’ve been working on these gallows
for quite a while, dug deep and perfected
the noose, tested my weight, made sure
feet couldn’t find ground when up there,
And now there’s only one thing missing,
And that’s my neck in the noose.
And why on earth is it missing? It’s the
key part – the perfect image will be created
when I stand upon the box, put my neck
through the noose, and pull that rope,
And my feet wave goodbye, suspended in the
air, wave goodbye, and my hands pinned at my sides,
And my eyes bulging as I run out of oxygen,
And I close them just to keep them in their sockets,
Plus there’s nothing worthwhile looking at anyway,
I grit my teeth as my throat screams for air,
My feet have said their final farewell, now quiet
and reserved and accepting of their fate,
And my oxygen is all ran out and my head starts to hurt
I couldn’t open my eyes even if I tried,
And my arms have the occasional jerk but they are
out of my control and then just like that…
I’m gone.
And hours later and nobody’s found me,
My legs are going blue and they’re getting slippery,
‘Cause they’re kind of turning to liquid – sorry
for the disgusting image, but they look a little
like off bananas only with oozing liquid.
I thought the noose around my neck would kill me,
But it only killed my body and now my soul is trapped
in it, and I’m watching my legs turn to liquid,
And the lack of circulation has made this body limp,
And my tongue is trapped between my teeth,
I couldn’t scream if I tried – this body is out of my
control but I can still feel the pain – I just can’t
communicate, maybe this is my punishment
for committing yet another sin, my throat
is constricted, my feet have long gone
and the disease is spreading all the way up to my waist,
And by the time they find me, my legs are a gooey puddle
and my arms are threatening to join them, my fingers – the only
part of my body I ever liked are each dripping away,
And they cut me down with disgust on their faces,
They look around for a note “there’s got to be one,
You don’t do this and just leave everyone to deal without
a word at all”, well I did, well I didn’t leave a note,
There was nothing left to say, if they didn’t understand
me in life then they wouldn’t understand me in my own
self-inflicted death so I didn’t leave a word other
than every word that I wrote about how I was feeling
But you probably shouldn’t read them either – they’ll
only sadden and confuse you even more than this,
Yes, I knew this would sadden everyone who cared
but my life was saddening them too, not to mention me,
So at least this way, one of us is happy, or so I thought
before I realized I’d be spending eternity in this body.
And so undignified, I feel so undignified,
I thought I’d been through this indignity for the last time,
But here I am powerless again and being undressed,
And there’s not a thing I can do in this body,
I scream to myself, it’s just like living in the past,
And how I hate this and hate the way the workers
do their work and they chat and laugh as they cut apart
my body, looking for little secrets etched in bones
and cut in organs and thrown down my throat,
But it’s all a little hard to decipher in there, the lack
of oxygen proved as a handy tool for hiding secrets,
I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get a shot at another life.
They cut right from my collarbone to my belly button,
Pull apart my ribs with a deafening creek,
Examine me, examine me, they talk about how
my family wants me cremated, and I don’t know if I mind,
Being buried alive sounds horrible but being burnt alive
doesn’t sound a whole lot better.
I am stuck in an oven now,
I am so not ready for this now,
I don’t have any choice now,
The spark ignites and I I try to hold my breath
before I remember that I have none,
And I try to grit my teeth and clench my fists
Before I remember they’re not mine anymore,
And now the flames lick at what’s left of me,
They made it up what was left of my legs real quick,
And my hair caught fire first burning away at my scalp,
Like a really bad sunburn that progresses so so so quickly,
And I just lie here to burn, burn into ashes.
And as ashes, my arms and legs all separated,
my soul isn’t too sure which to settle in,
But of course I know –it’s my heart that I
find and settle in, and listen to them discuss
where they’d like to scatter me.
And as they throw me into the beautiful ocean,
I feel the pain of my legs and arms being separated
throw into the sky and ripped apart,
My entire body is ripped apart and slowly drowned,
And my heart floats a minute but quickly sinks down,
And it drowns in the ocean, takes cover in the sand,
And it may be dead but my soul is still using it as a
vessel, a vessel trapped at the bottom of the ocean,
I keep forgetting that I can’t breathe, I keep forgetting
my fingers are at least a few feet away, the waves carry
all my organs and limbs miles and miles away,
And I’m left to suffocate but never ever truly leave
this place.
I’ve been working on these gallows
for quite a while, dug deep and perfected
the noose, tested my weight, made sure
feet couldn’t find ground when up there,
And now there’s only one thing missing,
And that’s my neck in the noose.
And why on earth is it missing? It’s the
key part – the perfect image will be created
when I stand upon the box, put my neck
through the noose, and pull that rope,
And my feet wave goodbye, suspended in the
air, wave goodbye, and my hands pinned at my sides,
And my eyes bulging as I run out of oxygen,
And I close them just to keep them in their sockets,
Plus there’s nothing worthwhile looking at anyway,
I grit my teeth as my throat screams for air,
My feet have said their final farewell, now quiet
and reserved and accepting of their fate,
And my oxygen is all ran out and my head starts to hurt
I couldn’t open my eyes even if I tried,
And my arms have the occasional jerk but they are
out of my control and then just like that…
I’m gone.
And hours later and nobody’s found me,
My legs are going blue and they’re getting slippery,
‘Cause they’re kind of turning to liquid – sorry
for the disgusting image, but they look a little
like off bananas only with oozing liquid.
I thought the noose around my neck would kill me,
But it only killed my body and now my soul is trapped
in it, and I’m watching my legs turn to liquid,
And the lack of circulation has made this body limp,
And my tongue is trapped between my teeth,
I couldn’t scream if I tried – this body is out of my
control but I can still feel the pain – I just can’t
communicate, maybe this is my punishment
for committing yet another sin, my throat
is constricted, my feet have long gone
and the disease is spreading all the way up to my waist,
And by the time they find me, my legs are a gooey puddle
and my arms are threatening to join them, my fingers – the only
part of my body I ever liked are each dripping away,
And they cut me down with disgust on their faces,
They look around for a note “there’s got to be one,
You don’t do this and just leave everyone to deal without
a word at all”, well I did, well I didn’t leave a note,
There was nothing left to say, if they didn’t understand
me in life then they wouldn’t understand me in my own
self-inflicted death so I didn’t leave a word other
than every word that I wrote about how I was feeling
But you probably shouldn’t read them either – they’ll
only sadden and confuse you even more than this,
Yes, I knew this would sadden everyone who cared
but my life was saddening them too, not to mention me,
So at least this way, one of us is happy, or so I thought
before I realized I’d be spending eternity in this body.
And so undignified, I feel so undignified,
I thought I’d been through this indignity for the last time,
But here I am powerless again and being undressed,
And there’s not a thing I can do in this body,
I scream to myself, it’s just like living in the past,
And how I hate this and hate the way the workers
do their work and they chat and laugh as they cut apart
my body, looking for little secrets etched in bones
and cut in organs and thrown down my throat,
But it’s all a little hard to decipher in there, the lack
of oxygen proved as a handy tool for hiding secrets,
I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get a shot at another life.
They cut right from my collarbone to my belly button,
Pull apart my ribs with a deafening creek,
Examine me, examine me, they talk about how
my family wants me cremated, and I don’t know if I mind,
Being buried alive sounds horrible but being burnt alive
doesn’t sound a whole lot better.
I am stuck in an oven now,
I am so not ready for this now,
I don’t have any choice now,
The spark ignites and I I try to hold my breath
before I remember that I have none,
And I try to grit my teeth and clench my fists
Before I remember they’re not mine anymore,
And now the flames lick at what’s left of me,
They made it up what was left of my legs real quick,
And my hair caught fire first burning away at my scalp,
Like a really bad sunburn that progresses so so so quickly,
And I just lie here to burn, burn into ashes.
And as ashes, my arms and legs all separated,
my soul isn’t too sure which to settle in,
But of course I know –it’s my heart that I
find and settle in, and listen to them discuss
where they’d like to scatter me.
And as they throw me into the beautiful ocean,
I feel the pain of my legs and arms being separated
throw into the sky and ripped apart,
My entire body is ripped apart and slowly drowned,
And my heart floats a minute but quickly sinks down,
And it drowns in the ocean, takes cover in the sand,
And it may be dead but my soul is still using it as a
vessel, a vessel trapped at the bottom of the ocean,
I keep forgetting that I can’t breathe, I keep forgetting
my fingers are at least a few feet away, the waves carry
all my organs and limbs miles and miles away,
And I’m left to suffocate but never ever truly leave
this place.
5-11-09
I’m sitting here, thinking (again, I’m
always thinking) about the words
I want to write (but I can’t find them,
not today). I need to express this (need
to get this out of my body) but the words
are out of my reach (just exceeding
my grasp) and all I’m doing is thinking.
And I’m always just thinking (and there’s
nothing more dangerous). About nothing,
about everything, about all the words I scribble,
About if they mean anything to anyone (and what
it would mean if they meant nothing)
If anyone even gets what I try to say (they’d be
doing well – I don’t understand half of it myself)
I’ve created this language, this theme, this mood,
this atmosphere in all my writings, and I write in
a language I don’t understand so how can I expect
them to read a language they haven’t yet learned?
It’s just not possible, so I’ll just keep thinking (always
thinking) I’m thinking in a language I can’t speak,
And so it’s hard to transfer messages from my mind
to my heart, or my mind to ink, I can’t make sense
of my stupid self, so how can anyone else?
I can’t make sense of any of this, so how can
anyone expect anyone else to? I don’t expect
you to understand. I don’t expect anyone
to understand.
I’m sitting here, thinking (again, I’m
always thinking) about the words
I want to write (but I can’t find them,
not today). I need to express this (need
to get this out of my body) but the words
are out of my reach (just exceeding
my grasp) and all I’m doing is thinking.
And I’m always just thinking (and there’s
nothing more dangerous). About nothing,
about everything, about all the words I scribble,
About if they mean anything to anyone (and what
it would mean if they meant nothing)
If anyone even gets what I try to say (they’d be
doing well – I don’t understand half of it myself)
I’ve created this language, this theme, this mood,
this atmosphere in all my writings, and I write in
a language I don’t understand so how can I expect
them to read a language they haven’t yet learned?
It’s just not possible, so I’ll just keep thinking (always
thinking) I’m thinking in a language I can’t speak,
And so it’s hard to transfer messages from my mind
to my heart, or my mind to ink, I can’t make sense
of my stupid self, so how can anyone else?
I can’t make sense of any of this, so how can
anyone expect anyone else to? I don’t expect
you to understand. I don’t expect anyone
to understand.
Russian Roulette
5-11-09
We have been sitting here for days on end,
Just passing around this gun,
And we play fast, not like wimps,
We don’t pause to wash our hands,
We just hand it, pull it, hand it on,
And we can never quite decide,
who wins – those left around the table
or those strewn on the floor.
So we just keep playing, and we all
avoid the question –what about when there’s
only one person left? But you can see
the fear in each of our eyes – don’t want to be last,
Don’t want to be left behind,
And we pull the trigger with ferocity
And sigh, but not in relief, when it clicks,
And a sharp intake of breath flows around the table
when the air ignites with our buddy’s blood.
And we play fast, not like wimps,
We no longer bother pausing to wash our hands,
Like it would make a difference, they’re so red,
Probably still stained from years ago,
‘Cause we just sit at this table and we never
move, I’ve held a gun to my head so many times,
Always begging, always pleading silently,
Always hoping inside to hear…nothing,
That click is like a death sentence in that
it’s not and if it were I wouldn’t hear a thing,
Or think a thing, or see a thing, or breathe a thing,
Or cry a thing, or mean a thing, or feel a thing,
What a perfect way to go, what a perfect way to live,
What a perfect ending, what perfection,
I’m passing it faster and faster now,
I’m starting to get desperate,
“Oh my hand slipped” I took two shots,
Before I passed it on and blood found my face,
My hands, my clothes, my body, my arms,
And there’s three left now, just three,
And we play fast, we each are so desperate,
And click, click, click, each click burns my ears,
And I’m trying not to be on the verge of tears,
When will this end? Hell, when will this end?
I plead, when will this come to an end?
And click, click, I’m so tired, I’m so tired
of all this clicking, and click, click, and it’s
igniting but it’s not on me and the blood
is getting hard to see through now,
The room looks like a murder scene,
But it’s not – this isn’t murder,
This is just a bunch of desperate people
playing an old-fashioned game
to kill the time until they kill themselves,
And there’s two left now, and I’m so scared
of being the last one but I know my luck,
Yes, I know my luck and I pull, and I pull again,
And I pull again but she rips it out of my hand,
“it’s not your turn, it’s my turn now”
And her blood crashes down on me,
And I cry, I just cry and it wets the dried blood on my face,
And it flakes down my neck and lands on my shoulders,
And I knew I’d be the last one left, and I scream at myself
“Why did you start this? You know your rotten luck,
Why did you think this would different? You know
your rotten luck, what the hell were you thinking?
What the hell are you going to do now? Why did you start this?
You knew you’d be left to end it like this.”
And when we all sat down, we made a promise,
Like at the end of the game “we’ll all be dead – no-one lives,
That way, each of us, we all win, and it’s time we had a win”.
And so shaking my hand is at my temple, and I’m hearing
screams in my ears like ‘do it’ like ‘what are you thinking’
like ‘this is the end, this is the tragic end you always knew
would find you’ and my fingers shaking so bad I pull the trigger
by accident and it clicks once, it clicks twice, it clicks three times,
And that’s time for me to hesitate, and then I ask why do i
hesitate? And how it makes me hate myself for being so weak,
But they all did it and they’re all l dead and if I’m found like this
I’ll be sentenced to worse than death so I may as well make
the body count an even six. Raising the barrel back up to my temple,
Shaking hand and shaking breath, I’m on the verge of tears,
All of a sudden they clear and everything just fades away,
I let my eyes close a little and I pull. It doesn’t click at all.
I don’t hear a word. I don’t feel a thing. I can’t move my tongue.
I can’t make a sound. I don’t see anything. And then…
the gates of Heaven approach and in my panic, I cut out my tongue,
if I’ve got nothing to confess with maybe they’ll let me in,
If I’ve got no way of asking for forgiveness maybe they’ll let me in,
But thunderbolt, just like in my mind, and I feel again, I feel the pain
I thought I left behind and I don’t see pitchforks and red men,
But I know where I am, with the sand eating my ankles,
With the sand clawing at my throat, and I laugh,
I just laugh. After all of that I end up in the same damn place
I was trying to leave. And I look around but there’s nobody.
And I realize my worst fear was being left all alone, feeling
all alone and now I’m stuck in eternity all alone surrounded
by sand and I can’t even feel the weather – it doesn’t matter,
I feel alone, that’s all the punishment I need, I laugh,
Oh what a bloody end. Oh what a bloody stupid end.
Oh what a bloody “I could’ve seen that coming”.
Oh what a way to start the end, and now we’re all
in our little separate hells living our worst fantasies,
Alone, alone, alone and we thought we’d all win this way,
But we all lost, we all lost to the universe.
We have been sitting here for days on end,
Just passing around this gun,
And we play fast, not like wimps,
We don’t pause to wash our hands,
We just hand it, pull it, hand it on,
And we can never quite decide,
who wins – those left around the table
or those strewn on the floor.
So we just keep playing, and we all
avoid the question –what about when there’s
only one person left? But you can see
the fear in each of our eyes – don’t want to be last,
Don’t want to be left behind,
And we pull the trigger with ferocity
And sigh, but not in relief, when it clicks,
And a sharp intake of breath flows around the table
when the air ignites with our buddy’s blood.
And we play fast, not like wimps,
We no longer bother pausing to wash our hands,
Like it would make a difference, they’re so red,
Probably still stained from years ago,
‘Cause we just sit at this table and we never
move, I’ve held a gun to my head so many times,
Always begging, always pleading silently,
Always hoping inside to hear…nothing,
That click is like a death sentence in that
it’s not and if it were I wouldn’t hear a thing,
Or think a thing, or see a thing, or breathe a thing,
Or cry a thing, or mean a thing, or feel a thing,
What a perfect way to go, what a perfect way to live,
What a perfect ending, what perfection,
I’m passing it faster and faster now,
I’m starting to get desperate,
“Oh my hand slipped” I took two shots,
Before I passed it on and blood found my face,
My hands, my clothes, my body, my arms,
And there’s three left now, just three,
And we play fast, we each are so desperate,
And click, click, click, each click burns my ears,
And I’m trying not to be on the verge of tears,
When will this end? Hell, when will this end?
I plead, when will this come to an end?
And click, click, I’m so tired, I’m so tired
of all this clicking, and click, click, and it’s
igniting but it’s not on me and the blood
is getting hard to see through now,
The room looks like a murder scene,
But it’s not – this isn’t murder,
This is just a bunch of desperate people
playing an old-fashioned game
to kill the time until they kill themselves,
And there’s two left now, and I’m so scared
of being the last one but I know my luck,
Yes, I know my luck and I pull, and I pull again,
And I pull again but she rips it out of my hand,
“it’s not your turn, it’s my turn now”
And her blood crashes down on me,
And I cry, I just cry and it wets the dried blood on my face,
And it flakes down my neck and lands on my shoulders,
And I knew I’d be the last one left, and I scream at myself
“Why did you start this? You know your rotten luck,
Why did you think this would different? You know
your rotten luck, what the hell were you thinking?
What the hell are you going to do now? Why did you start this?
You knew you’d be left to end it like this.”
And when we all sat down, we made a promise,
Like at the end of the game “we’ll all be dead – no-one lives,
That way, each of us, we all win, and it’s time we had a win”.
And so shaking my hand is at my temple, and I’m hearing
screams in my ears like ‘do it’ like ‘what are you thinking’
like ‘this is the end, this is the tragic end you always knew
would find you’ and my fingers shaking so bad I pull the trigger
by accident and it clicks once, it clicks twice, it clicks three times,
And that’s time for me to hesitate, and then I ask why do i
hesitate? And how it makes me hate myself for being so weak,
But they all did it and they’re all l dead and if I’m found like this
I’ll be sentenced to worse than death so I may as well make
the body count an even six. Raising the barrel back up to my temple,
Shaking hand and shaking breath, I’m on the verge of tears,
All of a sudden they clear and everything just fades away,
I let my eyes close a little and I pull. It doesn’t click at all.
I don’t hear a word. I don’t feel a thing. I can’t move my tongue.
I can’t make a sound. I don’t see anything. And then…
the gates of Heaven approach and in my panic, I cut out my tongue,
if I’ve got nothing to confess with maybe they’ll let me in,
If I’ve got no way of asking for forgiveness maybe they’ll let me in,
But thunderbolt, just like in my mind, and I feel again, I feel the pain
I thought I left behind and I don’t see pitchforks and red men,
But I know where I am, with the sand eating my ankles,
With the sand clawing at my throat, and I laugh,
I just laugh. After all of that I end up in the same damn place
I was trying to leave. And I look around but there’s nobody.
And I realize my worst fear was being left all alone, feeling
all alone and now I’m stuck in eternity all alone surrounded
by sand and I can’t even feel the weather – it doesn’t matter,
I feel alone, that’s all the punishment I need, I laugh,
Oh what a bloody end. Oh what a bloody stupid end.
Oh what a bloody “I could’ve seen that coming”.
Oh what a way to start the end, and now we’re all
in our little separate hells living our worst fantasies,
Alone, alone, alone and we thought we’d all win this way,
But we all lost, we all lost to the universe.
3-11-09
I can’t find the right words today,
They just are not coming to me
as easily as they sometimes do,
I’ll just keep writing until I find ‘em.
And my breathing is shallow – I tend
to get a little scared when I can’t express myself,
Well I think my past paints that picture just right.
Cuts on my arm and hands gripping my heart,
As I try not to give it away but is it a choice at all?
My fingers are slipping, getting bloody ‘cause I really
dug my nails in and now my heart is falling to pieces
in her hands, in her hands.
I get scared when I can’t write because I think I
might have just lost the only way I can express myself,
and the only thing about myself that I sometimes like.
I think I look to her and go ‘well she’s so beautiful,
I can write about her ‘til my fingers fall off’ but
so far they’re just red and blistered, and my wrists
are hurting from writing, not cutting, that was further up
just below the elbow, but that only stings a little now,
as the skin starts to heal, and wow, I’m good at stuffing up,
and I’m so bad at living. And I’m so tragic at living.
I can’t find the right words today,
They just are not coming to me
as easily as they sometimes do,
I’ll just keep writing until I find ‘em.
And my breathing is shallow – I tend
to get a little scared when I can’t express myself,
Well I think my past paints that picture just right.
Cuts on my arm and hands gripping my heart,
As I try not to give it away but is it a choice at all?
My fingers are slipping, getting bloody ‘cause I really
dug my nails in and now my heart is falling to pieces
in her hands, in her hands.
I get scared when I can’t write because I think I
might have just lost the only way I can express myself,
and the only thing about myself that I sometimes like.
I think I look to her and go ‘well she’s so beautiful,
I can write about her ‘til my fingers fall off’ but
so far they’re just red and blistered, and my wrists
are hurting from writing, not cutting, that was further up
just below the elbow, but that only stings a little now,
as the skin starts to heal, and wow, I’m good at stuffing up,
and I’m so bad at living. And I’m so tragic at living.
This Bed..
3-11-09
I made this bed so messily,
Now all I do is lie in it,
In the same clothes as yesterday,
I never change my sheets,
My pillows getting flat,
I made this bed so messily,
Now all I do is lie in it,
Yet I am suffering a lack of sleep,
I never ever change,
Or learn a thing.
I made this bed so messily,
To lie in, to die in,
I feel myself fading, I sink
right into the creases of the sheets,
I sink right into my mold in the mattress,
I just sink full-stop.
I made this bed so messily,
Now I have to lie in it,
And all I hope is I die in it,
And I know this is all consequence
But it doesn’t stop my actions,
I will never ever change,
I will just forever sink,
I will never ever change,
I will just sink and…
maybe I’ll die in the same bed
I had all those tragic nights in,
maybe I’ll die in this same bed,
That I love but I hate.
I made this bed so messily,
Now all I do is lie in it,
In the same clothes as yesterday,
I never change my sheets,
My pillows getting flat,
I made this bed so messily,
Now all I do is lie in it,
Yet I am suffering a lack of sleep,
I never ever change,
Or learn a thing.
I made this bed so messily,
To lie in, to die in,
I feel myself fading, I sink
right into the creases of the sheets,
I sink right into my mold in the mattress,
I just sink full-stop.
I made this bed so messily,
Now I have to lie in it,
And all I hope is I die in it,
And I know this is all consequence
But it doesn’t stop my actions,
I will never ever change,
I will just forever sink,
I will never ever change,
I will just sink and…
maybe I’ll die in the same bed
I had all those tragic nights in,
maybe I’ll die in this same bed,
That I love but I hate.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
30-10-09
30-10-09
I may have boxed myself in
a little too much, these edges
are a little close, razorblades
on the walls that are closing in,
now grazing me and threatening…
I’m backing away but this room
is four walls and a roof covered
in sharp objects wherever I turn,
I’m bleeding now everywhere
and it’s only getting so much worse…
You can repair a body,
can you repair a mind?
You can stitch up the skin,
but how do you help a soul?
You can medicate a body,
Or cut out the bad parts,
Thread things back together,
Or even introduce new organs,
But does any of it matter if the soul
is disintegrating, if the head the body
is attached to doesn’t want to be?
You can’t repair a will to live,
You can’t cut out sick memories,
You can’t heal a soul that’s lost it will,
You can fix up the body again and again,
You can fix up the body for quite a while,
But the mind is different – and more so
is the will to live, you can’t just introduce,
implant a will to live in a brain,
It’s meant to be innate, but if you’re born
without it, you just can’t grasp it.
I may have boxed myself in
a little too much, these edges
are a little close, razorblades
on the walls that are closing in,
now grazing me and threatening…
I’m backing away but this room
is four walls and a roof covered
in sharp objects wherever I turn,
I’m bleeding now everywhere
and it’s only getting so much worse…
You can repair a body,
can you repair a mind?
You can stitch up the skin,
but how do you help a soul?
You can medicate a body,
Or cut out the bad parts,
Thread things back together,
Or even introduce new organs,
But does any of it matter if the soul
is disintegrating, if the head the body
is attached to doesn’t want to be?
You can’t repair a will to live,
You can’t cut out sick memories,
You can’t heal a soul that’s lost it will,
You can fix up the body again and again,
You can fix up the body for quite a while,
But the mind is different – and more so
is the will to live, you can’t just introduce,
implant a will to live in a brain,
It’s meant to be innate, but if you’re born
without it, you just can’t grasp it.
28-10-09
28-9-09
Could you give me a little space, please?
Stand maybe a good ten feet away.
I am in some kind of conductive state.
Where I take on everything I meet.
Everything I meet I take and I pile it on these shoulders.
And I have to tell you my workout doesn’t cover this.
There is no way my shoulders are trained to quite take this.
Everything I meet I take and I thrust it through this heart.
And I have to tell you my cardio system is in disrepair.
There is no way my heart is quite facilitated to cope with this.
Could you back away just a tad, please?
Stand maybe a good twenty feet away.
I am in some kind of insane state.
Where I take in everything I see.
Everything I see I take it in and I throw it behind these eyes.
And I have to tell you my prescription doesn’t meet the requirements.
There is no way my eyes are ready to see what they’re about to see.
Everything I see I take it in and just shove it with every memory.
And I have to tell you my memory is being crushed.
Have you ever seen a demolished construction rise
Right from the ashes, right in front of your little eyes.
Have you ever seen a building knocked down,
Only to put itself back together, the reflection in your eyes
shows that you’re ready to cry, that you’re ready to cry
over all of this, won’t you ever cry?
I blink away every reflection that meets these eyes.
Simply, I just blink it all away,
Save all that pain, all those tears, all that.
Save it all for some never-ever day.
Could you give me a little space, please?
Stand maybe a good ten feet away.
I am in some kind of conductive state.
Where I take on everything I meet.
Everything I meet I take and I pile it on these shoulders.
And I have to tell you my workout doesn’t cover this.
There is no way my shoulders are trained to quite take this.
Everything I meet I take and I thrust it through this heart.
And I have to tell you my cardio system is in disrepair.
There is no way my heart is quite facilitated to cope with this.
Could you back away just a tad, please?
Stand maybe a good twenty feet away.
I am in some kind of insane state.
Where I take in everything I see.
Everything I see I take it in and I throw it behind these eyes.
And I have to tell you my prescription doesn’t meet the requirements.
There is no way my eyes are ready to see what they’re about to see.
Everything I see I take it in and just shove it with every memory.
And I have to tell you my memory is being crushed.
Have you ever seen a demolished construction rise
Right from the ashes, right in front of your little eyes.
Have you ever seen a building knocked down,
Only to put itself back together, the reflection in your eyes
shows that you’re ready to cry, that you’re ready to cry
over all of this, won’t you ever cry?
I blink away every reflection that meets these eyes.
Simply, I just blink it all away,
Save all that pain, all those tears, all that.
Save it all for some never-ever day.
27-10-09
27-9-09
I’d sing you every word I write
if I thought I had a voice worth listening to,
But I don’t.
I’d compose you a song too,
If I knew how to,
I’d teach myself to
if I thought it would woo
you .
but I know you are leagues
and leagues and leagues away.
It’d all be acoustic, plucking single lonely
strings and it wouldn’t go anywhere – lonely
on airwaves that play those pathetic, repetitive lonesome
songs ‘cause you’re all I’d sing about and it would get so old,
so, so, so, quickly.
If I thought I could make you smile,
I’d do everything and so much more,
If you asked.
If you said jump, I’d say how high?
If you said run, I’d say how far?
If you said get up, I’d be on my feet.
If you said go, I’d say now?
If you said I love you, I’d remember it forever,
Even if you never ever really meant it.
Can you hear my whiny, strained voice?
Plucking lonesome strings that are trying to snap,
that are cracking and blistering all my single fingers and thumb,
This never gets old for me – it never leaves my mind – SNAP,
every string just killed itself for playing such a tragic song
so, so, so many times.
I’d sing you every word I write
if I thought I had a voice worth listening to,
But I don’t.
I’d compose you a song too,
If I knew how to,
I’d teach myself to
if I thought it would woo
you .
but I know you are leagues
and leagues and leagues away.
It’d all be acoustic, plucking single lonely
strings and it wouldn’t go anywhere – lonely
on airwaves that play those pathetic, repetitive lonesome
songs ‘cause you’re all I’d sing about and it would get so old,
so, so, so, quickly.
If I thought I could make you smile,
I’d do everything and so much more,
If you asked.
If you said jump, I’d say how high?
If you said run, I’d say how far?
If you said get up, I’d be on my feet.
If you said go, I’d say now?
If you said I love you, I’d remember it forever,
Even if you never ever really meant it.
Can you hear my whiny, strained voice?
Plucking lonesome strings that are trying to snap,
that are cracking and blistering all my single fingers and thumb,
This never gets old for me – it never leaves my mind – SNAP,
every string just killed itself for playing such a tragic song
so, so, so many times.
27-9-09
27-9-09
Keep the blood in your wrists,
for them, for them, for them only.
Keep the breath in your lungs,
for them, for them, for them only.
Let your heart pump your blood,
through all your working arteries,
through and through and through.
Keep every drop in your arm,
for your friends, for your family,
Keep all that air passing through,
for them, for them, for them only.
If you could ever think of a better
reason for all this living
that feels so wrong but it feels so wrong
to end it too
you’d be content, for you and you only.
But I don’t, so I keep all the blood
in my wrist, in my head,
for you, for you, for you,
I keep all the blood passing through
and through, and through, and through,
And it feels so wrong but dying doesn’t
feel right either so I keep it all inside,
I mean all inside, for you, for you,
this is all for you but I’m scared that’s
not enough, it’s not enough to see
me all the way through this. I’ll just
keep floating through ‘til I meet what I know
is bound to jump out at me any minute from…
now.
Keep the blood in your wrists,
for them, for them, for them only.
Keep the breath in your lungs,
for them, for them, for them only.
Let your heart pump your blood,
through all your working arteries,
through and through and through.
Keep every drop in your arm,
for your friends, for your family,
Keep all that air passing through,
for them, for them, for them only.
If you could ever think of a better
reason for all this living
that feels so wrong but it feels so wrong
to end it too
you’d be content, for you and you only.
But I don’t, so I keep all the blood
in my wrist, in my head,
for you, for you, for you,
I keep all the blood passing through
and through, and through, and through,
And it feels so wrong but dying doesn’t
feel right either so I keep it all inside,
I mean all inside, for you, for you,
this is all for you but I’m scared that’s
not enough, it’s not enough to see
me all the way through this. I’ll just
keep floating through ‘til I meet what I know
is bound to jump out at me any minute from…
now.
18-10-09
18-10-09
I’ve got four pills and a drink
waiting for me at home,
Can you give me a better offer,
I’m hating this same old routine.
In and out of stingy little offices
where I pour out my little heart
and every feeling and worry’ll
Never come out ‘cause I’m
as far from honest as black from white,
And we all say we’re accepting
but we all know what lies under skin,
And that’s judgment.
I’ve got a nicely fluffed pillow
waiting for me at home,
Can I find a better offer?
I’m tired of this same old routine.
Open and closing this mouth
well I can’t fill my tongue
and I just know my heart’ll
Never be heard ‘cause I’m
as far from honest as north from south,
And it’s more than a long trek
and we all know that we just cannot
be bothered.
I’ve got a sea full of tears yearning,
I’ve got a headache waiting,
I’ve got an evil inside yearning,
I’ve got a potential death waiting…
I’ve got a box of pills and a drink
waiting for me at home,
You can’t give me a better offer,
I’m done with the same routine.
Drinks can chase down pills,
as long as my heart escapes,
and every thought and fear’ll…
I’ve got four pills and a drink
waiting for me at home,
Can you give me a better offer,
I’m hating this same old routine.
In and out of stingy little offices
where I pour out my little heart
and every feeling and worry’ll
Never come out ‘cause I’m
as far from honest as black from white,
And we all say we’re accepting
but we all know what lies under skin,
And that’s judgment.
I’ve got a nicely fluffed pillow
waiting for me at home,
Can I find a better offer?
I’m tired of this same old routine.
Open and closing this mouth
well I can’t fill my tongue
and I just know my heart’ll
Never be heard ‘cause I’m
as far from honest as north from south,
And it’s more than a long trek
and we all know that we just cannot
be bothered.
I’ve got a sea full of tears yearning,
I’ve got a headache waiting,
I’ve got an evil inside yearning,
I’ve got a potential death waiting…
I’ve got a box of pills and a drink
waiting for me at home,
You can’t give me a better offer,
I’m done with the same routine.
Drinks can chase down pills,
as long as my heart escapes,
and every thought and fear’ll…
12-10-09
12-10-09
Every time I see or write the date,
I get just a little bit more scared,
Like this was supposed to end years ago,
So why am I still walking, breathing, living?
Time is my biggest enemy
other than myself (of course),
Time is my biggest enemy,
And I am my biggest obstacle
in this.
Every time I look at the clock,
Changed from am to pm so quickly,
I feel my heart start to race like I
shouldn’t be walking, breathing, living.
Time is stuck on fast-forward
and I’m stuck on pause,
Time is trying to bury the past
but failing and passing its misery
onto me.
Every time I see or write the date,
I get just a little bit more scared,
Like this was supposed to end years ago,
So why am I still walking, breathing, living?
Time is my biggest enemy
other than myself (of course),
Time is my biggest enemy,
And I am my biggest obstacle
in this.
Every time I look at the clock,
Changed from am to pm so quickly,
I feel my heart start to race like I
shouldn’t be walking, breathing, living.
Time is stuck on fast-forward
and I’m stuck on pause,
Time is trying to bury the past
but failing and passing its misery
onto me.
Friday, October 9, 2009
For something a bit different.
9-10-09
There’s not many things from the past
we should hold onto and never let go,
But we’ve got to grasp this with all our hands,
We’ve got to hold this fast – preserve language
and art, the way it’s meant to be.
I know all this new technology is convenient
but art is not about convenience.
Not with these electronic little shopping lists
and the little chimes they make upon communicating,
Communication is more than just “aw, I luv u 2, c u then’,
now just how artistic is that? Now just how sick
is that to the lovers of the language?
Even drawing is done on touch-screen devices
and what ever happened to the pencil in the hand
which is just so much more true, personal and intimate,
(she says, as she types this on a screen herself)
maybe we are just scared of honesty?
It’s so much easier to lie when you don’t have an eye
to look into but just a bright screen to tell all your lies to
and there’s so little connection to the final addressee,
It’s nothing like a pen to a page, a stamp to a tongue,
an envelope that travels the world to doorsteps,
And when you read that slanted writing you can tell
just how the other person was feeling, and the holes
made in the page from anger make you worry more than a
“I’m so p’d off, man”, oh, how artistic, oh, how meaningless.
There aren’t many things from the past
we should hold onto and never let go,
But I don’t want to see the day the kids question
“oh, what is a … pen? You mean you used to write
directly onto the paper?” ‘
Tragedy and let’s just hold onto the language,
onto the tools of writing and onto art.
There’s not many things from the past
we should hold onto and never let go,
But we’ve got to grasp this with all our hands,
We’ve got to hold this fast – preserve language
and art, the way it’s meant to be.
I know all this new technology is convenient
but art is not about convenience.
Not with these electronic little shopping lists
and the little chimes they make upon communicating,
Communication is more than just “aw, I luv u 2, c u then’,
now just how artistic is that? Now just how sick
is that to the lovers of the language?
Even drawing is done on touch-screen devices
and what ever happened to the pencil in the hand
which is just so much more true, personal and intimate,
(she says, as she types this on a screen herself)
maybe we are just scared of honesty?
It’s so much easier to lie when you don’t have an eye
to look into but just a bright screen to tell all your lies to
and there’s so little connection to the final addressee,
It’s nothing like a pen to a page, a stamp to a tongue,
an envelope that travels the world to doorsteps,
And when you read that slanted writing you can tell
just how the other person was feeling, and the holes
made in the page from anger make you worry more than a
“I’m so p’d off, man”, oh, how artistic, oh, how meaningless.
There aren’t many things from the past
we should hold onto and never let go,
But I don’t want to see the day the kids question
“oh, what is a … pen? You mean you used to write
directly onto the paper?” ‘
Tragedy and let’s just hold onto the language,
onto the tools of writing and onto art.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
untitled
4-09-09
Good evening ladies and gents,
And take your seats won’t you please?
And take an ear and turn it this way,
Won’t you grant me just an ear tonight?
Let me just get this microphone nice and quiet.
I’m fading into the background of this life,
I am fading into the background of this night.
With the music and lyrics I’m listening to,
I am just another angst-filled teenager.
Except in a few months I will be twenty,
And I am finding that so depressing,
As I’ve been vowing to end this all before
my next birthday since I was fifteen.
Now they don’t take me seriously,
I guess I cried “suicide” one too many times.
Intermission, ladies and gents,
Free to leave or get a beer if you please,
some spirits would calm these nerves,
But well we all know how that story ends,
Just a little, just a little sip won’t hurt.
Well, ladies and gents I’m back,
I do hope you enjoyed the first act,
You see how red these curtains are?
Do you think my blood matches?
Do you think your blood matches?
The ramblings of a sip are sitting on
these lips, but it might’ve been a few,
You see I’ve nerves like a puppet
that suddenly finds it strings cut,
Now how do I act? Hell, I cannot act.
I see some of you leaving,
Were you hoping for a happy tune?
Or can you see the unhappy ending
coming your way, well leave,
if you please, just promise me,
you won’t go ahead and sell yourself
to that man that grips your hand,
and pulls you away, I know
you’re wide awake to the state
this world is threatening.
And I see your eyes look into mine,
And I thought I saw understanding there,
In a crowd of confused faces, flinches and
creased skin and open mouths, and ladies
and gents, won’t you quiet down? I’m not
quite done. Ahem. Ahem. Ladies and gents,
won’t you please calm down? I’m nearly
done now. I saw her eyes lock on mine,
And I know she knows but she still
left giggling with him and I saw his eyes
lock on mine and watch her greedily,
As he watched me watch her longingly.
And ladies and gents, last act, last scene,
This is just a move for a magazine.
Go ahead, go ahead, shake yourself around
the dancefloor, one-step, two-step,
Lower those straps and smile at the camera’s,
Smile that smile at the media,
And dance to songs you don’t know the meaning of,
And at the end of the night you crawl away,
You crawl away.
‘Cause I cannot take a world like this,
I cannot let a word like this live
for newborns and the unborn,
I reach into my pocket for my next trick,
I pull out a handkerchief with a grin,
I make it disappear so easily, the easiest
I’ve ever disappeared, how?
Nobody was even watching, nobody
was ever watching. It’s so easy
to disappear when there’s not a single face
in the crowd turned your way, sneak away.
But I couldn’t stay away from a room of fakes.
I knew a mission was thumping in my head.
I couldn’t let a room of fakes carry on.
So I carried in…
I slipped the safety slide off,
I pulled the heaviness from my pocket,
I poured my soul into the chamber,
And it was more than enough
to blow them all away,
No-one was ever really listening,
But, boy, did they run.
But boy, did they sprint and trip,
Some of them were even sick,
And I just stood with my eyes closed…
And when I opened them I reminded myself,
‘Hey this is just the rehearsal to an empty room’
And with the barrel to my temple,
‘It’s so easy to disappear in an empty room’
And with the barrel to my temple,
And my other hand resting so gently on the floor,
I rehearsed my speech of truth and I found it too hard
to say to an empty room, so how could I ever?
How could I ever sing to a crowded hall?
So with the barrel to my temple,
I scream ‘It’s so easy to disappear when no-ones
paying attention’ bang, thud, fast footsteps.
Good evening ladies and gents,
And take your seats won’t you please?
And take an ear and turn it this way,
Won’t you grant me just an ear tonight?
Let me just get this microphone nice and quiet.
I’m fading into the background of this life,
I am fading into the background of this night.
With the music and lyrics I’m listening to,
I am just another angst-filled teenager.
Except in a few months I will be twenty,
And I am finding that so depressing,
As I’ve been vowing to end this all before
my next birthday since I was fifteen.
Now they don’t take me seriously,
I guess I cried “suicide” one too many times.
Intermission, ladies and gents,
Free to leave or get a beer if you please,
some spirits would calm these nerves,
But well we all know how that story ends,
Just a little, just a little sip won’t hurt.
Well, ladies and gents I’m back,
I do hope you enjoyed the first act,
You see how red these curtains are?
Do you think my blood matches?
Do you think your blood matches?
The ramblings of a sip are sitting on
these lips, but it might’ve been a few,
You see I’ve nerves like a puppet
that suddenly finds it strings cut,
Now how do I act? Hell, I cannot act.
I see some of you leaving,
Were you hoping for a happy tune?
Or can you see the unhappy ending
coming your way, well leave,
if you please, just promise me,
you won’t go ahead and sell yourself
to that man that grips your hand,
and pulls you away, I know
you’re wide awake to the state
this world is threatening.
And I see your eyes look into mine,
And I thought I saw understanding there,
In a crowd of confused faces, flinches and
creased skin and open mouths, and ladies
and gents, won’t you quiet down? I’m not
quite done. Ahem. Ahem. Ladies and gents,
won’t you please calm down? I’m nearly
done now. I saw her eyes lock on mine,
And I know she knows but she still
left giggling with him and I saw his eyes
lock on mine and watch her greedily,
As he watched me watch her longingly.
And ladies and gents, last act, last scene,
This is just a move for a magazine.
Go ahead, go ahead, shake yourself around
the dancefloor, one-step, two-step,
Lower those straps and smile at the camera’s,
Smile that smile at the media,
And dance to songs you don’t know the meaning of,
And at the end of the night you crawl away,
You crawl away.
‘Cause I cannot take a world like this,
I cannot let a word like this live
for newborns and the unborn,
I reach into my pocket for my next trick,
I pull out a handkerchief with a grin,
I make it disappear so easily, the easiest
I’ve ever disappeared, how?
Nobody was even watching, nobody
was ever watching. It’s so easy
to disappear when there’s not a single face
in the crowd turned your way, sneak away.
But I couldn’t stay away from a room of fakes.
I knew a mission was thumping in my head.
I couldn’t let a room of fakes carry on.
So I carried in…
I slipped the safety slide off,
I pulled the heaviness from my pocket,
I poured my soul into the chamber,
And it was more than enough
to blow them all away,
No-one was ever really listening,
But, boy, did they run.
But boy, did they sprint and trip,
Some of them were even sick,
And I just stood with my eyes closed…
And when I opened them I reminded myself,
‘Hey this is just the rehearsal to an empty room’
And with the barrel to my temple,
‘It’s so easy to disappear in an empty room’
And with the barrel to my temple,
And my other hand resting so gently on the floor,
I rehearsed my speech of truth and I found it too hard
to say to an empty room, so how could I ever?
How could I ever sing to a crowded hall?
So with the barrel to my temple,
I scream ‘It’s so easy to disappear when no-ones
paying attention’ bang, thud, fast footsteps.
Friday, October 2, 2009
One size fits all.
30-9-09
Life is supposed to be
one size fits all,
But life doesn’t fit me at all.
My sleeves cover my hands,
And my jeans drag through the earth,
And everything I pick up sticks
and sticks to my ankles and climbs
it’s way up my legs, up my chest,
and pierces me like an arrow.
Life is supposed to be
one size fits all,
But life doesn’t fit me at all.
I’m buried, flailing under this,
I’m crawling, crying under this with tears,
Tears that turn the dirt to mud,
And the mud just sticks everything
to my chest and I can hardly breathe,
and the grains are in my throat.
With this in my hand, I can’t move on,
With this clasped in my heart, I can’t move on,
I can’t reach all those hands that aren’t reaching for me,
‘Cause I just never even bothered screaming,
So I flail alone, just trying to crawl out.
So I flail alone, just trying to let myself drown.
But the mud makes its way down my throat,
Clasps my heart with guilt and my arms push it all away,
And I just stand again…stand again…stand again…
Push it all away…stand again, like it’s just another day.
Guilt fits my hand like a glove,
For a while ‘til it forces this hand
around my neck, I’m suffocating.
Life is meant to fit all,
But it never fit me at all.
I’ve just got life fighting guilt,
And guilt fighting life,
And life and guilt – the final round is just raging
in my hand – with a kitchen knife,
in my head – those loud voices,
in my stomach – acid bubbles,
in my heart - …
Life is supposed to be
one size fits all,
But life doesn’t fit me at all.
My sleeves cover my hands,
And my jeans drag through the earth,
And everything I pick up sticks
and sticks to my ankles and climbs
it’s way up my legs, up my chest,
and pierces me like an arrow.
Life is supposed to be
one size fits all,
But life doesn’t fit me at all.
I’m buried, flailing under this,
I’m crawling, crying under this with tears,
Tears that turn the dirt to mud,
And the mud just sticks everything
to my chest and I can hardly breathe,
and the grains are in my throat.
With this in my hand, I can’t move on,
With this clasped in my heart, I can’t move on,
I can’t reach all those hands that aren’t reaching for me,
‘Cause I just never even bothered screaming,
So I flail alone, just trying to crawl out.
So I flail alone, just trying to let myself drown.
But the mud makes its way down my throat,
Clasps my heart with guilt and my arms push it all away,
And I just stand again…stand again…stand again…
Push it all away…stand again, like it’s just another day.
Guilt fits my hand like a glove,
For a while ‘til it forces this hand
around my neck, I’m suffocating.
Life is meant to fit all,
But it never fit me at all.
I’ve just got life fighting guilt,
And guilt fighting life,
And life and guilt – the final round is just raging
in my hand – with a kitchen knife,
in my head – those loud voices,
in my stomach – acid bubbles,
in my heart - …
24-9-09
24-9-09
Karma reached me the other night,
Remember that night you were so helpless,
And I refused to help you…
Well the world just got me back for that,
I had a night where I was so helpless,
And nobody would help me…
But I brought it all on myself.
I drag karma around with me
balancing on my shoulders
with tubes through each ear.
And every mistake I make,
And I make more than a lot
And every mistake I make
I somehow create.
I somehow create
my own perfect hell
where I can’t live, where I can’t scream,
where I’m all alone, where I’m sentenced
to literal life, while I feel lifeless.
It’s just the world getting it’s way with me,
It’s just everything that I deserve.
Karma reached me the other night,
Remember that night you were so helpless,
And I refused to help you…
Well the world just got me back for that,
I had a night where I was so helpless,
And nobody would help me…
But I brought it all on myself.
I drag karma around with me
balancing on my shoulders
with tubes through each ear.
And every mistake I make,
And I make more than a lot
And every mistake I make
I somehow create.
I somehow create
my own perfect hell
where I can’t live, where I can’t scream,
where I’m all alone, where I’m sentenced
to literal life, while I feel lifeless.
It’s just the world getting it’s way with me,
It’s just everything that I deserve.
Lullaby
21-9-09
Humour the child
with scribbles on fridges.
How to look after
there is not a handbook.
Apparently there is evil
that can touch the purest…
There is an evil so sour
that can touch the child…
With a blackened hand
reaching out for her,
She sobs in a ring of fire.
Cries for her mother and father
to save her from the monster
who uncovers those parts
that we always keep covered up.
And claws tear at her hair
and plant bugs that infest
her mind and sing a lullaby
“Oh child, you are so loved
Oh child, you are so…
worthless, disgusting,
Oh child you are so loved
Oh child you are such a…
burden, freak.
Oh child you are so hated
Oh child you are so…
pathetic, insignificant”.
Such a mild voice
Such a disturbing message
Such a protective embrace
in all the wrong places.
And so young, did she ever
have a chance at all?
And so poisoned, did she ever
have a clue at all?
And so pure, did she ever
have such a memory?
And so innocent,
did she ever have innocence at all?
And so young,
Did she even have a chance?
Humour the child
with scribbles on fridges.
How to look after
there is not a handbook.
Apparently there is evil
that can touch the purest…
There is an evil so sour
that can touch the child…
With a blackened hand
reaching out for her,
She sobs in a ring of fire.
Cries for her mother and father
to save her from the monster
who uncovers those parts
that we always keep covered up.
And claws tear at her hair
and plant bugs that infest
her mind and sing a lullaby
“Oh child, you are so loved
Oh child, you are so…
worthless, disgusting,
Oh child you are so loved
Oh child you are such a…
burden, freak.
Oh child you are so hated
Oh child you are so…
pathetic, insignificant”.
Such a mild voice
Such a disturbing message
Such a protective embrace
in all the wrong places.
And so young, did she ever
have a chance at all?
And so poisoned, did she ever
have a clue at all?
And so pure, did she ever
have such a memory?
And so innocent,
did she ever have innocence at all?
And so young,
Did she even have a chance?
21-9-09
21-9-09
Funny how I didn’t sleep a wink
but had the worst nightmare.
Funny how I didn’t sleep a wink
but lived the worst nightmare.
It’s not funny at all how
my biggest fear is myself.
It’s not funny at all how
my worst enemy is myself.
Funny how awake one can feel
after a night’s worth of not sleeping.
Funny how awake one can feel
at four thirty in the morning.
It’s not funny at all how
out of control I am.
It’s not funny at all how
terribly scared I am.
Funny how well one can act
after years and years of practice.
Funny how well one can act
in times when the most important thing
is the truth.
Funny how I didn’t sleep a wink
but had the worst nightmare.
Funny how I didn’t sleep a wink
but lived the worst nightmare.
It’s not funny at all how
my biggest fear is myself.
It’s not funny at all how
my worst enemy is myself.
Funny how awake one can feel
after a night’s worth of not sleeping.
Funny how awake one can feel
at four thirty in the morning.
It’s not funny at all how
out of control I am.
It’s not funny at all how
terribly scared I am.
Funny how well one can act
after years and years of practice.
Funny how well one can act
in times when the most important thing
is the truth.
19-9-09
19-9-09
I have this sudden urge
just to cut you all right out.
I have this sudden urge
just to cut you all…
I’ll grab those scissors
that once sliced my wrist and
I’ll cut messily around your head,
around your shoulders, up and down
your legs and then fold you in half
rip up your image and place you
so carelessly in my waste basket.
I’ll do it just one
at a time, “don’t run” they
will always scream out until
their voices fade ‘cause throats
are worn out eventually and I’ll
force my hand into your neck
if I have to, twist and choke.
I’ll grab those scissors
that once sliced my wrist and
I’ll cut messily around my life,
around my goals, up and down
my mind and then attach myself
to a little coat hanger and let me,
let me hang.
I have this sudden urge
just to cut you all right out.
I have this sudden urge
just to cut you all…
I’ll grab those scissors
that once sliced my wrist and
I’ll cut messily around your head,
around your shoulders, up and down
your legs and then fold you in half
rip up your image and place you
so carelessly in my waste basket.
I’ll do it just one
at a time, “don’t run” they
will always scream out until
their voices fade ‘cause throats
are worn out eventually and I’ll
force my hand into your neck
if I have to, twist and choke.
I’ll grab those scissors
that once sliced my wrist and
I’ll cut messily around my life,
around my goals, up and down
my mind and then attach myself
to a little coat hanger and let me,
let me hang.
19-9-09
19-9-09
I haven’t bothered to shower for days
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My hair feels dirty and I smell a bit funny
But most of all my minds feeling a little dim.
My eyes can’t quite make out the letters
I’m scanning, burnt edges and I need sedation
just to sleep at all and the side effects mean
I can’t stop shaking, I can’t keep my eyes open,
I can’t quench my thirst and I jump at the sound
of a scratching pen.
Just another day in a body of the dead
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My motivation ran away with time
and my will to live made it a threesome.
My eyes can’t make out the beauty
all these people keep on speaking of
I need seven tablets just to make it through
every damn day, in which I’m so damn tired.
I can’t stop thinking, I can’t stop hurting,
I can’t stop wishing that the pen in my hand had
the power of a gun.
Ink is such a joke, scratching, penning
words that don’t mean anything to anyone
but me and I’m just wishing when that rope
was around my neck, I’d taken that step.
Ink is such a joke, screaming in colours
that I want nothing but to…
Ink is such a joke, just crying out for…
Ink is such a joke, just writing variations of
“I wish I could grab a fucking rope,
Knot it around this useless fucking neck,
And take that one little fucking wussy step,
And smile wide as I fucking choke “.
I haven’t bothered to shower for days
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My hair feels dirty and I smell a bit funny
But most of all my minds feeling a little dim.
My eyes can’t quite make out the letters
I’m scanning, burnt edges and I need sedation
just to sleep at all and the side effects mean
I can’t stop shaking, I can’t keep my eyes open,
I can’t quench my thirst and I jump at the sound
of a scratching pen.
Just another day in a body of the dead
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My motivation ran away with time
and my will to live made it a threesome.
My eyes can’t make out the beauty
all these people keep on speaking of
I need seven tablets just to make it through
every damn day, in which I’m so damn tired.
I can’t stop thinking, I can’t stop hurting,
I can’t stop wishing that the pen in my hand had
the power of a gun.
Ink is such a joke, scratching, penning
words that don’t mean anything to anyone
but me and I’m just wishing when that rope
was around my neck, I’d taken that step.
Ink is such a joke, screaming in colours
that I want nothing but to…
Ink is such a joke, just crying out for…
Ink is such a joke, just writing variations of
“I wish I could grab a fucking rope,
Knot it around this useless fucking neck,
And take that one little fucking wussy step,
And smile wide as I fucking choke “.
19-9-09
19-9-09
This morning I took an hour
just to get dressed,
Sat on the edge of my bed
Just thinking (about you,
you know that already)
Seal my lips, dry my lips,
Seal my lips ‘til my tongue
hangs limp and forgets how to
annunciate anything at all,
Keep it all locked up inside this head,
It’s like hiding from a murderer
in your bed and screaming
before he even reaches you.
Never had a chance, did I?
But always had a hope.
Never had a chance, did I?
Don’t have a hope either.
Sitting on the edge of the bed,
With my head in my hands,
Trying not to pull out my hair,
Just thinking (about you,
you know that already)
Just thinking how I wish I
could stop thinking (about you,
you know that already).
This morning I took an hour
just to get dressed,
Sat on the edge of my bed
Just thinking (about you,
you know that already)
Seal my lips, dry my lips,
Seal my lips ‘til my tongue
hangs limp and forgets how to
annunciate anything at all,
Keep it all locked up inside this head,
It’s like hiding from a murderer
in your bed and screaming
before he even reaches you.
Never had a chance, did I?
But always had a hope.
Never had a chance, did I?
Don’t have a hope either.
Sitting on the edge of the bed,
With my head in my hands,
Trying not to pull out my hair,
Just thinking (about you,
you know that already)
Just thinking how I wish I
could stop thinking (about you,
you know that already).
16-9-09
16-9-09
I’d write you a poem every day
from now ‘til forever
if it would be mean
we could be together.
Hell, who’m I kidding?
I’d write you a poem every day
from now ‘til forever
if it’d make you smile
just a lil while.
I’d write you a poem every day
from now ‘til forever
if it would be mean
we could be together.
Hell, who’m I kidding?
I’d write you a poem every day
from now ‘til forever
if it’d make you smile
just a lil while.
Busride
16/9/09
A bus-ride in the morning sun,
should be pleasant and appreciated,
The sunlight leaks into my vision,
It’s so damn beautiful.
I wish I could draw it
But I can only create in my head,
I wish I could appreciate,
But I need more treatment
than a lifetime of sunshine.
“Hell won’t you cheer up already,
already? Won’t you crack a smile?”
Time flies when you’re suicidal,
Always getting to the unwanted point,
the rain rests on my eyelashes,
It’s so damn beautiful,
I wish I could hold it
close and tight to my mind,
I wish I could appreciate,
But I need more treatment
than a lifetime of beauty.
“Hell, won’t you move on already,
already? Won’t you just deal?”
Well, time’s a bird
and I’m a rock hidden in a cave,
Well, time’s flying over,
and I’m just trying to hide,
Well, time's swooping me,
And I’m cowering, cowardly.
A bus-ride in the morning sun,
should be pleasant and appreciated,
The sunlight leaks into my vision,
It’s so damn beautiful.
I wish I could draw it
But I can only create in my head,
I wish I could appreciate,
But I need more treatment
than a lifetime of sunshine.
“Hell won’t you cheer up already,
already? Won’t you crack a smile?”
Time flies when you’re suicidal,
Always getting to the unwanted point,
the rain rests on my eyelashes,
It’s so damn beautiful,
I wish I could hold it
close and tight to my mind,
I wish I could appreciate,
But I need more treatment
than a lifetime of beauty.
“Hell, won’t you move on already,
already? Won’t you just deal?”
Well, time’s a bird
and I’m a rock hidden in a cave,
Well, time’s flying over,
and I’m just trying to hide,
Well, time's swooping me,
And I’m cowering, cowardly.
September Poetry
Shinigami.
So I saw you with your scythe and hood,
And those evil eyes gave me that look
like ‘I am coming for you’ so simple,
Well, I know and I’m not running,
Just waiting up at night, so simple,
Why have you taken so long to visit me?
Why are you taking so long to take me?
I know you’ll cut off my tongue in the afterlife,
I’ve told so many stories, so many lies,
And I’d like to say I’m past caring – that I don’t mind,
But that would just be another lie,
I am such a good liar – that might be
why I’m terrified of unconsciousness.
I am anxious for you to come for me,
I am terrified for you to come to me,
Will we embrace in final peace?
Or will you impale me?
I guess these questions are unanswerable
until the night you take me from my bed,
my house, my town, my entire life,
So my mind will just keep trying to answer
all these questions in my sleeping hours,
In my dreams and nightmares I wonder
what is there, is there anything at all?
So I saw you with your scythe and hood,
And those evil eyes gave me that look
like ‘I am coming for you’ so simple,
Well, I know and I’m not running,
Just waiting up at night, so simple,
Why have you taken so long to visit me?
Why are you taking so long to take me?
I know you’ll cut off my tongue in the afterlife,
I’ve told so many stories, so many lies,
And I’d like to say I’m past caring – that I don’t mind,
But that would just be another lie,
I am such a good liar – that might be
why I’m terrified of unconsciousness.
I am anxious for you to come for me,
I am terrified for you to come to me,
Will we embrace in final peace?
Or will you impale me?
I guess these questions are unanswerable
until the night you take me from my bed,
my house, my town, my entire life,
So my mind will just keep trying to answer
all these questions in my sleeping hours,
In my dreams and nightmares I wonder
what is there, is there anything at all?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
9-9-09
9/9/09
I had a dream last night…
Strings were threaded right through my hands,
And I hung breaking from my fingers,
Before the string was cut and I pulled it
out with my teeth and my palms wouldn’t stop bleeding.
And I’m searching, exploring, for another meaning
that doesn’t paint a picture of sick salvation
I don’t want to be saved, don’t you get it?
If it had been under my control,
I would have put the string right through my throat,
It would have been a little more successful
and a little more gratifying than dying like the man
who created the world, he doesn’t deserve the capital
of importance and Hell, who am I kidding?
I’d die any way that Death willed, and let him
transport me from one grave to another.
I had a dream last night…
Strings were threaded right through my hands,
And I hung breaking from my fingers,
Before the string was cut and I pulled it
out with my teeth and my palms wouldn’t stop bleeding.
And I’m searching, exploring, for another meaning
that doesn’t paint a picture of sick salvation
I don’t want to be saved, don’t you get it?
If it had been under my control,
I would have put the string right through my throat,
It would have been a little more successful
and a little more gratifying than dying like the man
who created the world, he doesn’t deserve the capital
of importance and Hell, who am I kidding?
I’d die any way that Death willed, and let him
transport me from one grave to another.
6-9-09
6/9/09
They take you in for an operation.
Your head feels funny, your eyes go blurry.
You don’t know what happens next
at least not until you wake up.
They stick a string into your belly,
To pull you along the footpath,
They stick wires in your gums,
To force you to pretend to smile,
They stick clips in your eyelids,
To keep you wide awake…
until they press the button at their will
to stop the life running through your veins.
I’m your future – with a swollen stomach,
With bleeding gums and hanging retinas,
I swear, don’t have the operation
that forces you into not just pretending,
But into pretending to pretend.
They take you in for an operation.
Your head feels funny, your eyes go blurry.
You don’t know what happens next
at least not until you wake up.
They stick a string into your belly,
To pull you along the footpath,
They stick wires in your gums,
To force you to pretend to smile,
They stick clips in your eyelids,
To keep you wide awake…
until they press the button at their will
to stop the life running through your veins.
I’m your future – with a swollen stomach,
With bleeding gums and hanging retinas,
I swear, don’t have the operation
that forces you into not just pretending,
But into pretending to pretend.
4-9-09
4-9-09
You’ve got a demon up inside your head,
Making you feel this way – it’s so exhausting
just to breathe – it’s hard to live with
the spirit of death in your heart.
I’d read the entire bible in a night
if I thought I could exorcise the evil
from the way you live.
I’m not sure how to rid this evil,
Because it’s wedged inside my heart
too, I promise if I ever figure this out
I’ll do whatever it takes – to
let you live your life.
You’ve got a demon up inside your head,
Making you feel this way – it’s so exhausting
just to breathe – it’s hard to live with
the spirit of death in your heart.
I’d read the entire bible in a night
if I thought I could exorcise the evil
from the way you live.
I’m not sure how to rid this evil,
Because it’s wedged inside my heart
too, I promise if I ever figure this out
I’ll do whatever it takes – to
let you live your life.
25-8-09
25/8/09
Passion fleeting, as my heart
is cut out and up like the slaughter
of just another cow a radio sound
in the background, that’s the twelfth
one for today, as he whistles a tune.
Artistic capability fading
from these two bloodied hands,
I’m down to stick-figure men,
with their thin little bodies and their
pathetic little hands pointing to their
non-existent chests and a red crayon
is my only tool, scribbled like a child’s
drawing that would find the fridge.
I think about the language
in order to just pass the time
in order to think about anything else
but the blood my heart is bleeding
I can’t spell laughter without slaughter,
there’s a selfish aspect to every act,
you can’t spell slaughter without laughter,
there’s a guilty pleasure in immoral acts.
It always leads back to a bare paddock,
All that grass and no-one to chew it,
It always leads back to the brain,
All that potential and no will to utilize,
It always leads back to the heart,
All that soul and no way to start it,
It always leads back to this fight,
All that challenge and no will to beat it.
Passion fleeting, as my heart
is cut out and up like the slaughter
of just another cow a radio sound
in the background, that’s the twelfth
one for today, as he whistles a tune.
Artistic capability fading
from these two bloodied hands,
I’m down to stick-figure men,
with their thin little bodies and their
pathetic little hands pointing to their
non-existent chests and a red crayon
is my only tool, scribbled like a child’s
drawing that would find the fridge.
I think about the language
in order to just pass the time
in order to think about anything else
but the blood my heart is bleeding
I can’t spell laughter without slaughter,
there’s a selfish aspect to every act,
you can’t spell slaughter without laughter,
there’s a guilty pleasure in immoral acts.
It always leads back to a bare paddock,
All that grass and no-one to chew it,
It always leads back to the brain,
All that potential and no will to utilize,
It always leads back to the heart,
All that soul and no way to start it,
It always leads back to this fight,
All that challenge and no will to beat it.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
-
We’re all supposed to be born the same,
Same chances, same innocence,
Childhood is such an oblivious time,
We’re all supposed to be raised sane,
I was oblivious to what he was doing
to my head, to my body,
But it gave me a predisposition for this.
And now I’m far from sane,
And is it really a surprise that I’m so
caught up in the past
if I tell you when I close my eyes
I feel like being sick
at the sight that greets my heavy eyes
I try not to sleep
but I am just so tired from breathing.
It’s like my life is full of poison
that reaches every peripheral
and my conscience hangs heavier
than my eyes for the unfortunate
happenings in my life and guilt
is a funny thing – hung around my n/eck
but it ends up around my ankles.
And now I’m upside down
And nothing surprises me anymore
My ankles are not even sore,
The nightmares got flushed out by chemicals
but not from the waking hours
where I want nothing more than sleep
to rid me of these memories
this poison that I breathe in and out
and my body is toxic – and the only situation
is to put more of a chemical solution inside me,
And please, just promise me
you won’t ever lay a hand on me at all.
And please, just promise me
you will give up on me eventually.
Same chances, same innocence,
Childhood is such an oblivious time,
We’re all supposed to be raised sane,
I was oblivious to what he was doing
to my head, to my body,
But it gave me a predisposition for this.
And now I’m far from sane,
And is it really a surprise that I’m so
caught up in the past
if I tell you when I close my eyes
I feel like being sick
at the sight that greets my heavy eyes
I try not to sleep
but I am just so tired from breathing.
It’s like my life is full of poison
that reaches every peripheral
and my conscience hangs heavier
than my eyes for the unfortunate
happenings in my life and guilt
is a funny thing – hung around my n/eck
but it ends up around my ankles.
And now I’m upside down
And nothing surprises me anymore
My ankles are not even sore,
The nightmares got flushed out by chemicals
but not from the waking hours
where I want nothing more than sleep
to rid me of these memories
this poison that I breathe in and out
and my body is toxic – and the only situation
is to put more of a chemical solution inside me,
And please, just promise me
you won’t ever lay a hand on me at all.
And please, just promise me
you will give up on me eventually.
Insight
I hold grudges real tight,
haven’t you noticed I have trouble letting go?
and changing my ways,
my bad habits and self-destructive behavior
seem to be repellent
I don’t need a critic when I have myself
bullying my mind
I don’t need a shoulder when I have my imagination
to absorb the tears
I don’t feel crawl down my face until a certain threshold
is pushed to its limit
and I feel like I’m going to die from dehydration
with all these salty tears on my red face and
I kick and I punch and I curse myself and tell myself
to stop being so weak, to stop crying
What if someone see’s? Oh what a tragedy
for someone to have a bit of insight,
Oh god, can’t anyone have some insight?
I don’t know how much longer I can keep going
like this, I feel I’m fading as an explosive crawls
up my throat – I want to scream, I need to scream
but I won’t let anyone see me like that.
I hold everything inside tight,
haven’t you noticed how quiet I am?
I will never change
this self deprecating, self punishing behavior,
I don’t know how
to be different or the same as everyone else -
so alive, so fulfilled,
I need, I need, someone to have some insight,
but I put up my shield,
I need someone to have some insight,
Oh god, won’t someone see through me?
haven’t you noticed I have trouble letting go?
and changing my ways,
my bad habits and self-destructive behavior
seem to be repellent
I don’t need a critic when I have myself
bullying my mind
I don’t need a shoulder when I have my imagination
to absorb the tears
I don’t feel crawl down my face until a certain threshold
is pushed to its limit
and I feel like I’m going to die from dehydration
with all these salty tears on my red face and
I kick and I punch and I curse myself and tell myself
to stop being so weak, to stop crying
What if someone see’s? Oh what a tragedy
for someone to have a bit of insight,
Oh god, can’t anyone have some insight?
I don’t know how much longer I can keep going
like this, I feel I’m fading as an explosive crawls
up my throat – I want to scream, I need to scream
but I won’t let anyone see me like that.
I hold everything inside tight,
haven’t you noticed how quiet I am?
I will never change
this self deprecating, self punishing behavior,
I don’t know how
to be different or the same as everyone else -
so alive, so fulfilled,
I need, I need, someone to have some insight,
but I put up my shield,
I need someone to have some insight,
Oh god, won’t someone see through me?
Envy
Envy rises as a lion
roaring at a crowd but
no echo ricochets –I am
never heard,
Walk between walls
that I see red
Walking past kids
who I see dead
I barely get a glance,
I find myself questioning if I ever
even had a chance
Just ‘cause I’m not on their
conveyor belt
where their choices are made
on skin, hair, eye colour, career,
My choices are made too,
for much darker things though,
If my skin were clear,
And you could see the thoughts
filling up this head,
You would turn – run, and throw
your arms around those you love,
but I was never protected like that
but I can’t let that be an excuse
so I hold my hands over my eyes – I
squeeze my hands on my stomach,
And I swallow the lion prowling
my lungs in hunt of my throat,
I swallow the lion and it’s the most
difficult thing I’ve ever done.
roaring at a crowd but
no echo ricochets –I am
never heard,
Walk between walls
that I see red
Walking past kids
who I see dead
I barely get a glance,
I find myself questioning if I ever
even had a chance
Just ‘cause I’m not on their
conveyor belt
where their choices are made
on skin, hair, eye colour, career,
My choices are made too,
for much darker things though,
If my skin were clear,
And you could see the thoughts
filling up this head,
You would turn – run, and throw
your arms around those you love,
but I was never protected like that
but I can’t let that be an excuse
so I hold my hands over my eyes – I
squeeze my hands on my stomach,
And I swallow the lion prowling
my lungs in hunt of my throat,
I swallow the lion and it’s the most
difficult thing I’ve ever done.
7.7
7/7/0
Water running over my arms,
over my face, down my neck,
down my chest, down my stomach,
down my legs and around my feet,
Soap running over my arms,
over my face, down my neck,
down my chest, down my stomach,
down my legs, around my feet,
I don’t feel clean.
My arms are red, my face is wet,
my teeth are clenched, my hand scrubs,
my legs shake and my feet hold fast,
And I don’t feel clean.
My hand grasps, the other one stretches
the skin out like a canvas – tight,
my legs still shake as blood runs down them,
hits my feet as I grit my teeth, the pain
is such relief but I,
I still don’t feel clean.
Water running over my arms,
over my face, down my neck,
down my chest, down my stomach,
down my legs and around my feet,
Soap running over my arms,
over my face, down my neck,
down my chest, down my stomach,
down my legs, around my feet,
I don’t feel clean.
My arms are red, my face is wet,
my teeth are clenched, my hand scrubs,
my legs shake and my feet hold fast,
And I don’t feel clean.
My hand grasps, the other one stretches
the skin out like a canvas – tight,
my legs still shake as blood runs down them,
hits my feet as I grit my teeth, the pain
is such relief but I,
I still don’t feel clean.
Friday, June 19, 2009
-
18/6/09
A few lousy words to describe such a feeling,
Nothing but an understatement can be created,
But what else can I do with a cowardice tongue?
And lungs that crave to test their capabilities.
To scream every particle of air from these lungs
would be such a relief, to speak with wind
as my puppet - I would create a tornado,
Lift myself right off the ground as high as
I could spin just to see if anything up there exists,
But everything that goes up always comes down and I
don’t just come, I crash like an aircraft in a sealed off,
hidden area and I’m back on earth with two feet
nailed to the ground but I’m biting my lip to hide
the pain. And oh, I hope you appreciate the ulcers
I create inside my cheeks and the almost
permanent lump I’m swallowing in my throat,
My heart tries to climb up my body like a ladder,
As though a ladder could hold the weight, it
never makes it to my eyes and when these nails
start to loosen – my feet breathe oxygen – for a
second but I grit my teeth, close these eyes and I
screw it right back in to please them all, to
serve them all another day and all the tomorrows
I’m to survive will not change, I’ll inflict pain
just to stay as long as I can stay.
A few lousy words to describe such a feeling,
Nothing but an understatement can be created,
But what else can I do with a cowardice tongue?
And lungs that crave to test their capabilities.
To scream every particle of air from these lungs
would be such a relief, to speak with wind
as my puppet - I would create a tornado,
Lift myself right off the ground as high as
I could spin just to see if anything up there exists,
But everything that goes up always comes down and I
don’t just come, I crash like an aircraft in a sealed off,
hidden area and I’m back on earth with two feet
nailed to the ground but I’m biting my lip to hide
the pain. And oh, I hope you appreciate the ulcers
I create inside my cheeks and the almost
permanent lump I’m swallowing in my throat,
My heart tries to climb up my body like a ladder,
As though a ladder could hold the weight, it
never makes it to my eyes and when these nails
start to loosen – my feet breathe oxygen – for a
second but I grit my teeth, close these eyes and I
screw it right back in to please them all, to
serve them all another day and all the tomorrows
I’m to survive will not change, I’ll inflict pain
just to stay as long as I can stay.
Catharsis
7-6-09
Truth and feelings. Catharsis.
A feeling so consuming, so completely
overwhelming of my personality that there
are scratch marks from where I used to fight
before I gave in to my own warped mind.
Maybe I’ve just been fighting my innate self
all of this time, quashing my true self – my evil,
angry, hate-filled self with all these righteous feelings -
of guilt, fairness, reason.
Or maybe it’s events of past that have filled me with
anger and loathing, bitterness and sick desire,
I can’t even figure out my own mind and don’t even
bother to try ‘cause it’s changing all the time -
a calm river shows but when a small stone creates
a ripple, well you don’t see the ripple but inside it
explodes like a tsunami in my mind, I’m so perfect
at hiding, the only place perfection finds me.
A calm river remains, a mystery to the locals,
It never ripples – not even in the heavy rain,
But underneath the surface there’s a darkness,
Swallowing every ripple and forcing it right down
to its feet and sometimes, the locals get a show,
It doesn’t happen very often, it’s the stuff of legends,
When I let open my mouth and I scream and words
just tumble straight from my mind through my mouth,
And tears strangle my eyes but I won’t cry,
This is enough of a tragedy for one show and how
my throat hurts and how I sit staring at the ground,
And how I stare so delicate and ashamed.
Truth and feelings. Catharsis.
A feeling so consuming, so completely
overwhelming of my personality that there
are scratch marks from where I used to fight
before I gave in to my own warped mind.
Maybe I’ve just been fighting my innate self
all of this time, quashing my true self – my evil,
angry, hate-filled self with all these righteous feelings -
of guilt, fairness, reason.
Or maybe it’s events of past that have filled me with
anger and loathing, bitterness and sick desire,
I can’t even figure out my own mind and don’t even
bother to try ‘cause it’s changing all the time -
a calm river shows but when a small stone creates
a ripple, well you don’t see the ripple but inside it
explodes like a tsunami in my mind, I’m so perfect
at hiding, the only place perfection finds me.
A calm river remains, a mystery to the locals,
It never ripples – not even in the heavy rain,
But underneath the surface there’s a darkness,
Swallowing every ripple and forcing it right down
to its feet and sometimes, the locals get a show,
It doesn’t happen very often, it’s the stuff of legends,
When I let open my mouth and I scream and words
just tumble straight from my mind through my mouth,
And tears strangle my eyes but I won’t cry,
This is enough of a tragedy for one show and how
my throat hurts and how I sit staring at the ground,
And how I stare so delicate and ashamed.
-
19-5-09
I’m always colder than the weather.
Shivering, standing alone in the snow.
Whilst everyone basks in the rays of the sun.
And I’ve always got this bitter taste in my mouth
because of all the pills I take and all I used to drink.
It doesn’t go away – that craving, it gnaws right
at your insides and right in your ears.
And my eyes are clouded by my childhood,
I can’t see past it and it paints everything I do see
into harsh and skeptical colours darker than
all the nights I cried into my pillow and receded
right into my imagination to escape one world
and fall insanely in love with another.
I’m always colder than the weather.
Shivering, standing alone in the snow.
Whilst everyone basks in the rays of the sun.
And I’ve always got this bitter taste in my mouth
because of all the pills I take and all I used to drink.
It doesn’t go away – that craving, it gnaws right
at your insides and right in your ears.
And my eyes are clouded by my childhood,
I can’t see past it and it paints everything I do see
into harsh and skeptical colours darker than
all the nights I cried into my pillow and receded
right into my imagination to escape one world
and fall insanely in love with another.
Judgement day
Judgment Day.
On judgment day I know in which direction
I will fall, the opposite to angels, to you,
my perfect angel. In life, I could never
match your stride. You were always twenty
or so paces ahead and I was always twenty
paces or so behind and the pounding in your head
could never quite match the volume of the pounding
in mine. So instead, in death, I try.
Our noses collided before our lips;
You had all the innocence that I –unwillingly –lacked
And I, everything you had yet to discover.
However, I fear the secrets I whispered in your ear
Corrupted you beyond the supposed forces of the world -
the world most know unless their doors have seen
the invisible, the destructive beings only talked about
in stories in hushed voices, in paragraphs of ‘that
will never happen to me’ but it did happen to me.
So I happened to you and took you there
But you wouldn’t, couldn’t stay – your soul held
too much innocence, too much hope for such a place,
And so we separated – lips first, then noses, then eyes closed
you ran blindly but healthy.
I could never quite catch you in life,
And I knew where you would go in death,
There was one immense flaw in my plan –
I forgot that suicide, in religion, is a crime,
And now I’ll spend my death in between fires,
As far away from you in death as I always was
in life - I’ll spend my never-passing time lying
on my back, staring at the brightest star in the sky,
I’d recognize that shine anywhere.
On judgment day I know in which direction
I will fall, the opposite to angels, to you,
my perfect angel. In life, I could never
match your stride. You were always twenty
or so paces ahead and I was always twenty
paces or so behind and the pounding in your head
could never quite match the volume of the pounding
in mine. So instead, in death, I try.
Our noses collided before our lips;
You had all the innocence that I –unwillingly –lacked
And I, everything you had yet to discover.
However, I fear the secrets I whispered in your ear
Corrupted you beyond the supposed forces of the world -
the world most know unless their doors have seen
the invisible, the destructive beings only talked about
in stories in hushed voices, in paragraphs of ‘that
will never happen to me’ but it did happen to me.
So I happened to you and took you there
But you wouldn’t, couldn’t stay – your soul held
too much innocence, too much hope for such a place,
And so we separated – lips first, then noses, then eyes closed
you ran blindly but healthy.
I could never quite catch you in life,
And I knew where you would go in death,
There was one immense flaw in my plan –
I forgot that suicide, in religion, is a crime,
And now I’ll spend my death in between fires,
As far away from you in death as I always was
in life - I’ll spend my never-passing time lying
on my back, staring at the brightest star in the sky,
I’d recognize that shine anywhere.
unnamed19
19-5-09
I had a dream the other night
It was quick-moving and jumpy
so be patient as I explain.
At first, I was in a forest – dark
and wandering alone looking for
someone to love, to find comfort
with.
Then I was crawling up vines,
Desperately scrambling might be
a better-suited phrase.
And then I was dropped, now
a mouse in a giant bathtub
and I couldn’t make my way out of
the dirtiest bathtub I’ve ever seen,
ever been in. You could wash yourself
for a year in that water and never
feel clean.
I never feel clean.
I had a dream the other night
It was quick-moving and jumpy
so be patient as I explain.
At first, I was in a forest – dark
and wandering alone looking for
someone to love, to find comfort
with.
Then I was crawling up vines,
Desperately scrambling might be
a better-suited phrase.
And then I was dropped, now
a mouse in a giant bathtub
and I couldn’t make my way out of
the dirtiest bathtub I’ve ever seen,
ever been in. You could wash yourself
for a year in that water and never
feel clean.
I never feel clean.
19-5-09 unnamed
19.5.09
Once a , always a.
That’s how the skeptical saying goes
and it’s not too far from the truth.
‘Cause cravings never go away.
It spends the night whispering in my ear,
convincing my mind of what it needs,
And in the day I can quiet the voice inside
a little but it’s still tugging at the corners
of my mind, trying to make a hole in
the web of protection it took me so long
to strengthen.
But I won’t moisten these lips with that.
I won’t poison my mind with that.
I won’t flush out everything I’ve built since then
with that.
Every mention of anything that can be semantically
linked has me licking my lips and trying to swallow
becomes almost as difficult as breathing. So I just
pretend that what I put to my lips has that secret
ingredient to drive away my pain but I know it’s
not the same. I just can’t decide if I’m relieved
or resentful. I’m certainly ashamed.
I haven’t changed that much.
I haven’t changed enough.
I’m still craving and it takes my
everything to not give in.
Once a , always a.
That’s how the skeptical saying goes
and it’s not too far from the truth.
‘Cause cravings never go away.
It spends the night whispering in my ear,
convincing my mind of what it needs,
And in the day I can quiet the voice inside
a little but it’s still tugging at the corners
of my mind, trying to make a hole in
the web of protection it took me so long
to strengthen.
But I won’t moisten these lips with that.
I won’t poison my mind with that.
I won’t flush out everything I’ve built since then
with that.
Every mention of anything that can be semantically
linked has me licking my lips and trying to swallow
becomes almost as difficult as breathing. So I just
pretend that what I put to my lips has that secret
ingredient to drive away my pain but I know it’s
not the same. I just can’t decide if I’m relieved
or resentful. I’m certainly ashamed.
I haven’t changed that much.
I haven’t changed enough.
I’m still craving and it takes my
everything to not give in.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Pretence.
4/3/09
Both my knee’s are on the ground
Getting grazed but I don’t care
And I won’t let my scream fill the air
I have only once and I plan to keep
it that way.
‘Cause I don’t let my anguish escape
through my mouth,
My fists hold my pain and I hit
and I hit again
and the bag glares right back at
me as I bruise my hands.
The bag is my worst enemy
and I just can’t stop my fists
The bag is the world
and my fists are crying now
But I won’t let my eyes shed a tear
Out of breath I can’t believe there’s still more
inside after all that hitting
I’m not relieved.
I can still feel the pain
eating at my bones and giving my throat lumps
I just have to swallow a pill to feel
and then all I feel is hell at my heels,
is an explosion in my stomach
creeping up my insides
up my throat, in my saliva, on my tongue,
always on my mind and in my eyes I hide,
‘Cause I just swallow and I just smile,
and I just hit the bag and I just cry in the shower
so I can pretend it’s just the water on my face.
Both my knee’s are on the ground
Getting grazed but I don’t care
And I won’t let my scream fill the air
I have only once and I plan to keep
it that way.
‘Cause I don’t let my anguish escape
through my mouth,
My fists hold my pain and I hit
and I hit again
and the bag glares right back at
me as I bruise my hands.
The bag is my worst enemy
and I just can’t stop my fists
The bag is the world
and my fists are crying now
But I won’t let my eyes shed a tear
Out of breath I can’t believe there’s still more
inside after all that hitting
I’m not relieved.
I can still feel the pain
eating at my bones and giving my throat lumps
I just have to swallow a pill to feel
and then all I feel is hell at my heels,
is an explosion in my stomach
creeping up my insides
up my throat, in my saliva, on my tongue,
always on my mind and in my eyes I hide,
‘Cause I just swallow and I just smile,
and I just hit the bag and I just cry in the shower
so I can pretend it’s just the water on my face.
Diseased
3/4/09
Disease – what a simple word
for such a complex thing.
The line blurs between disease
and living. This disease in my head
is driving me quite literally crazy,
Sometimes I think cancer or some
physical disease would be easier to
deal with. Death would greet me,
shake my hand with an evil grin.
Instead, I get all his cousins
spitting in my face as Death lurks
in my shadow, just teasing,
teasing me like a dog with a bone,
the chain of life chokes me as I lurch towards
Death and he just laughs like I’m the biggest joke
he’s ever seen and I don’t blame him.
I am a joke but even pathetic at that,
I am just plain pathetic,
This disease is curled up inside my skull,
Just sleeping but beating blood into my veins,
Just relaxing in my head and pouring out of my mouth,
and filtering all my thoughts
and interpreting the world through sick eyes.
I just can’t move on.
Standing Still
3/4/09
I hop on trains to places
I don’t know just to
feel the movement.
Because I cannot move myself forward.
I am so stuck
in between the tracks.
And trains just rush right past me
without a second glance.
I am just standing stock still
in the pouring rain – I won’t cry
not today. The chemicals
made me better for a minute
but then I got too used to them.
Drivers are beeping at me to move
but I’m just paralysed by the things I’ve seen,
And by the nightmares I dream.
And my eyes are trying to turn the image right way up
But my mind just doesn’t want to see – I fall
to my knees and hide my tears within the rain.
Because my eyes are showing me all the sickness
and sad memories I tried to pretend didn’t exist.
And now I’m just screaming with the thunder
but my mouth doesn’t make a sound
My heartbeat beats faster and loudly in my ears
I cannot hear the storm anymore.
I just close my eyes and let them burn with salty tears
as I force myself to forget for another day
and as I force myself to stop crying and put on
a brave face, just for everyone but me.
‘Cause it kills me inside but it brings to your
face a smile so I grit my teeth and smile.
So I cover my cuts and smile.
So I bury my memories and smile.
So I swallow the pills and smile.
So I silence the screaming
until I’m alone again.
I hop on trains to places
I don’t know just to
feel the movement.
Because I cannot move myself forward.
I am so stuck
in between the tracks.
And trains just rush right past me
without a second glance.
I am just standing stock still
in the pouring rain – I won’t cry
not today. The chemicals
made me better for a minute
but then I got too used to them.
Drivers are beeping at me to move
but I’m just paralysed by the things I’ve seen,
And by the nightmares I dream.
And my eyes are trying to turn the image right way up
But my mind just doesn’t want to see – I fall
to my knees and hide my tears within the rain.
Because my eyes are showing me all the sickness
and sad memories I tried to pretend didn’t exist.
And now I’m just screaming with the thunder
but my mouth doesn’t make a sound
My heartbeat beats faster and loudly in my ears
I cannot hear the storm anymore.
I just close my eyes and let them burn with salty tears
as I force myself to forget for another day
and as I force myself to stop crying and put on
a brave face, just for everyone but me.
‘Cause it kills me inside but it brings to your
face a smile so I grit my teeth and smile.
So I cover my cuts and smile.
So I bury my memories and smile.
So I swallow the pills and smile.
So I silence the screaming
until I’m alone again.
Cryptic tongue
31/3/09
I am too cryptic.
People always stare at me
like I’m speaking in tongue.
People always glare at me
like I’m making no sense.
A foreigner in my own home.
I am speaking your language
You’re just not listening
I am speaking your language
I just don’t speak simple.
My tongue is riddled with lies
and puzzle, mysteries.
My words are always bent
I cannot just state facts.
I must always hide the truth
in complex sentences and metaphors.
I am speaking your language,
It just takes a little concentration
to decipher the meanings of my messages.
I just can’t speak straight.
I am too cryptic.
People always stare at me
like I’m speaking in tongue.
People always glare at me
like I’m making no sense.
A foreigner in my own home.
I am speaking your language
You’re just not listening
I am speaking your language
I just don’t speak simple.
My tongue is riddled with lies
and puzzle, mysteries.
My words are always bent
I cannot just state facts.
I must always hide the truth
in complex sentences and metaphors.
I am speaking your language,
It just takes a little concentration
to decipher the meanings of my messages.
I just can’t speak straight.
Alone
30-3-09
Rotting bones - I’m disintegrating.
The shovel shop down the road
has decided to close down.
I am all alone. In this I am alone.
There’s no text on my headstone.
The grass over my grave never grows.
I am all alone. In this I am alone.
Everything I never did and never owned
flashes through my mind. In each
picture, I am alone. In this I am alone.
You can put your flowers all over me,
But flowers always die so quickly near me.
You can send your best wishes but
six feet under costs a bit extra and who
wants mail when you’re dead anyway?
With flies in my eyes and worms in my mouth
Even the insects die all around me as I tried
to scream. Dirt tastes just like it looks
-so ugly, the only thing covering me.
Get away. Don’t visit me here anymore.
I am speaking through worms to tell you
…to tell who?
No-one ever knows and nothing ever grows.
I will never know and I will never grow again.
I am alone. In this I am alone.
Moth To A Flame
Cliché. Moth to a flame.
That’s my building block.
A moth flies towards the light
it looks so innocent, so nice,
but little electric waves see me
reeling back but one look at that
lovely orange flame, I must get
closer, I must see the center,
I just crave the company
of my arch enemy.
Electric waves through my insides
again – feel so shocking
,feel so familiar, feel so homely.
A moth to a flame, the only difference
is I’m crawling back on my bleeding
hands and knees and I know this is going to hurt
I just really need the company.
That’s my building block.
A moth flies towards the light
it looks so innocent, so nice,
but little electric waves see me
reeling back but one look at that
lovely orange flame, I must get
closer, I must see the center,
I just crave the company
of my arch enemy.
Electric waves through my insides
again – feel so shocking
,feel so familiar, feel so homely.
A moth to a flame, the only difference
is I’m crawling back on my bleeding
hands and knees and I know this is going to hurt
I just really need the company.
Literal metaphor
24/3/09
Just a step or three backwards.
A dangerous step backwards.
A step backwards is only dangerous
when you’re standing on an edge.
I’m always standing right on the edge.
So three steps means I’m falling
into the depths of the past
And I’m so used to this feeling
I can’t believe it still hurts so much.
I curse the faces around me
for not knowing what I’m thinking
.I curse my surroundings
as I try to escape them.
Feet, train, there are always windows though.
I cannot escape the world.
But I can escape the known for a while.
And live in the freshness of not knowing where I am.
Funny how I feel most alive
when I’m away from the common world.
When I’m alone in an unfamiliar place.
Excitement ignites – that breath of fresh air
in a new place turns into a sigh…
as I realize this place is no more my home
than the place I come from.
Literal or a metaphor?
They alwayswant to know.
Well this started literally
but it seems my literal actions are just
the physical actions of my mental games.
Just a step or three backwards.
A dangerous step backwards.
A step backwards is only dangerous
when you’re standing on an edge.
I’m always standing right on the edge.
So three steps means I’m falling
into the depths of the past
And I’m so used to this feeling
I can’t believe it still hurts so much.
I curse the faces around me
for not knowing what I’m thinking
.I curse my surroundings
as I try to escape them.
Feet, train, there are always windows though.
I cannot escape the world.
But I can escape the known for a while.
And live in the freshness of not knowing where I am.
Funny how I feel most alive
when I’m away from the common world.
When I’m alone in an unfamiliar place.
Excitement ignites – that breath of fresh air
in a new place turns into a sigh…
as I realize this place is no more my home
than the place I come from.
Literal or a metaphor?
They alwayswant to know.
Well this started literally
but it seems my literal actions are just
the physical actions of my mental games.
Fly To A Spider
Thoughts. Poison.
One and the same.
Once this disease gets in.
It twists and turns,
It plays all kinds of games.
It never gives up and never loses.
It kills if it must,
It changes shape to fit,
It does everything it can
to make sure it will win.
It rolls my eyes to the back of my head
so I watch childhood memories
and other tragic things I’ll never forget,
It traps you then rolls you up
in your own mistakes
and like a fly to a spider
I have been caught
and like a fly to a spider
I am so helpless
and like a fly to a spider
I am so doomed.
One and the same.
Once this disease gets in.
It twists and turns,
It plays all kinds of games.
It never gives up and never loses.
It kills if it must,
It changes shape to fit,
It does everything it can
to make sure it will win.
It rolls my eyes to the back of my head
so I watch childhood memories
and other tragic things I’ll never forget,
It traps you then rolls you up
in your own mistakes
and like a fly to a spider
I have been caught
and like a fly to a spider
I am so helpless
and like a fly to a spider
I am so doomed.
*unnamed*
26/3/09
Once a fleshy hand with veins and blood,
I held in mine with nothing but the time we had,
Life has never been on my side ‘til now
but death is on yours,
and I just want to be where you are,
I’m standing atop your grave with a shovel.
And the tears are watering the flowers I left you.
And I’m left here holding the hand
of a skeleton.
And I won’t let your bones crumble.
And I won’t let this hand ever slip.
And I’ll knock at the walls of this cave
until the walls crumble
And we’ll lie here eternally.
Your skeletal hand in my fleshy one.
I’ll breathe in dirt ‘til the end of my days.
Once a fleshy hand with veins and blood,
I held in mine with nothing but the time we had,
Life has never been on my side ‘til now
but death is on yours,
and I just want to be where you are,
I’m standing atop your grave with a shovel.
And the tears are watering the flowers I left you.
And I’m left here holding the hand
of a skeleton.
And I won’t let your bones crumble.
And I won’t let this hand ever slip.
And I’ll knock at the walls of this cave
until the walls crumble
And we’ll lie here eternally.
Your skeletal hand in my fleshy one.
I’ll breathe in dirt ‘til the end of my days.
Suicidal Pen
18/3/09
Fingertips filled with ink
smear the page creatively
Oh the joys of being a pen.
Unless it was mine
filled with misery.
Fingertips filled with ink
paint out this hell
Oh the misery of being a pen
of being my pen
writing nothing but misery.
Fingertips filled with blood
smear the page creatively
mixed with tears
‘cause now my faithful pen
is suicidal.
Well I guess I’m contagious.
Well I guess the ink hit my blood.
Smash – my pen is doomed.
I am contagious.
Even my pen is suicidal.
Fingertips filled with ink
smear the page creatively
Oh the joys of being a pen.
Unless it was mine
filled with misery.
Fingertips filled with ink
paint out this hell
Oh the misery of being a pen
of being my pen
writing nothing but misery.
Fingertips filled with blood
smear the page creatively
mixed with tears
‘cause now my faithful pen
is suicidal.
Well I guess I’m contagious.
Well I guess the ink hit my blood.
Smash – my pen is doomed.
I am contagious.
Even my pen is suicidal.
Gears slip away
3-3-09
Weak minded fool to let him in,
At least dreams cannot face the blame,
But daydreams are conscience acts of the
minds desires.
As if this mind wasn’t fractured enough
without another arrow in the works
without another spade in the gears
forcing them into reverse –
whichway? What way?
Blurred vision,which way? What way?
Shaky vision,sore head…which way?
What way?
I’m trying to walk through bricks
to safety but danger is taking over
as the gears slip out of my hands,
slip away, the wrong way.
Weak minded fool to let him in,
At least dreams cannot face the blame,
But daydreams are conscience acts of the
minds desires.
As if this mind wasn’t fractured enough
without another arrow in the works
without another spade in the gears
forcing them into reverse –
whichway? What way?
Blurred vision,which way? What way?
Shaky vision,sore head…which way?
What way?
I’m trying to walk through bricks
to safety but danger is taking over
as the gears slip out of my hands,
slip away, the wrong way.
Hell
3/3/09
‘Patience’’ He says
tempting me with not an apple
but a knife, a rope, a bottle of pills,
Tug of war – the casualties over the last
five years
wouldn’t come back on Halloween,
Beating hearts but dead to me -
I’m dead to them in the ring of Hell
where they threw the towel in.
At one end – now all alone,
I was always alone.
And He’s at the other end with the best
and most overused excuse
‘a test of strength, a test of faith’
but secretly willing failure upon me,
knowing my demeanor is weak,
"I surrender, I surrender,”
I pulled, I pulled,
He let go and let go a bolt
I am flying backwards
all alone
with only the fires to break my fall.
‘Patience’’ He says
tempting me with not an apple
but a knife, a rope, a bottle of pills,
Tug of war – the casualties over the last
five years
wouldn’t come back on Halloween,
Beating hearts but dead to me -
I’m dead to them in the ring of Hell
where they threw the towel in.
At one end – now all alone,
I was always alone.
And He’s at the other end with the best
and most overused excuse
‘a test of strength, a test of faith’
but secretly willing failure upon me,
knowing my demeanor is weak,
"I surrender, I surrender,”
I pulled, I pulled,
He let go and let go a bolt
I am flying backwards
all alone
with only the fires to break my fall.
Metaphors
15/3/09
I wish I could just sit in a corner
As a fire burnt everything down around me
Closing in so quickly
So it wasn’t just a metaphor anymore.
I wish I could just sit in a corner
And watch my life burn to the ground
Closing in so quickly
I’m so fed up with metaphors.
I wish I could just cry in a corner
As I watch my hand strike a match
And cast everything into flames
And shadows dance on the walls
Pointing, laughing, burning, screaming,
Mocking
Because this is only a metaphor.
I wish I could just sit in a corner
And feel the heat from the flames
As I prepare to burn
So it wasn't just a metaphor anymore.
I wish I could just sit in a corner
As a fire burnt everything down around me
Closing in so quickly
So it wasn’t just a metaphor anymore.
I wish I could just sit in a corner
And watch my life burn to the ground
Closing in so quickly
I’m so fed up with metaphors.
I wish I could just cry in a corner
As I watch my hand strike a match
And cast everything into flames
And shadows dance on the walls
Pointing, laughing, burning, screaming,
Mocking
Because this is only a metaphor.
I wish I could just sit in a corner
And feel the heat from the flames
As I prepare to burn
So it wasn't just a metaphor anymore.
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