catharsis

pure catharsis. what would we do without art...DIE.


Well how am i feeling?
I'm not really sure, so
i'm trying to get words on the floor,

but my feet keep getting eggshells
and my toes are bleeding,
"Don't discuss" they whisper,
"just don't say a thing,
she's way too fragile for this".

Fragile? I'm kicking in doors,
And punching out walls,
i'll give you fragile in the shape
of five curled fingers

but my fingers keep finding blades
and my skin is ripping
"Don't notice"they whisper,
"just don't say a thing,
she must be angry about something"

Angry? I'm lying in bed crying
with covers - my only friend,
I'll give you angry in the shape
of falling tears

but my tears keep finding puzzles
and my head is spinning
"Don't try to figure it out,
just don't say a thing,
she wants to figure this out alone"

Alone? I'm locking doors,
You got that right - alone,
I'm afraid of death but i'm
terrified of life and i'm scared
if i don't get living i might die
all alone and unfulfilled,
But it's not the dying that frightens me
it's the what comes after,

So fragile? You got that right,
So angry? You got that right
So alone? You got that right.

And terribly confused,
And my conscience is abused,
And i feel I have no use,
So I go back to...

Well how am i feeling?
I'm not really sure,
So i hope to get some words on the floor,
to paint myself a picture to hang above the door,
to remind myself when i am low
of the art this hand can create.