Regress to a person who was lonely
And you are still alone
Nostalgia for your golden years
Within the safety of your parents home
Cause home is where my heart should be
But this organ's overworked
It's begging for retirement from that restless cavity underneath my shirt
I'm young but I feel like I've failed already
I'm small but I feel like my soul is heavy
I've got mountains to climb
Running out of time
But the lead in my shoes just wont let me
Go
I'm so slow
All I need them to know
Is I'm trying
Not flying
But falling
And I wake up so tired each morning
From dreams unrequited
And ambitions blighted
All erased by stretching and yawning
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
The presentation of angels
And the accompanying glimpse into the nature of heaven
Is affirmation that I have retired to a fantasy
It was the blinding white light
And the open mouth of the screaming boy savior
I refuse to acknowledge the idiosyncrasies that make him a man.
He is unique among us.
He is innocence.
He is pain and love.
And I will stay with him.
And I will choose the great spider that hovers above this desperate and infinite plateau.
Do not follow me.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Dark were the days immediately prior to my rebirth.
It was at this peculiar time that I realized the potential of endless thought and kicks.
The strain of giving and taking and finding the time to be free within our minds.
Drink from the actions of others, and your reactions to things that may not be there at all.
And with this creation spirals.
Endless circles and boxes. To abandon expectation is to be free.
And to realize the notion that creation and trailing inspiration is free and easy and limited only to what we have not yet perceived for references sake.
I would rather live in pain than not live.
From each rebirth, this is what will save me.
Reaching out for the time when love was not such a filthy word.
And when cities were undauntingly small.
I am not so saintly as to resist habit.
I have the same fantasies again and again.
This wine tastes like bile but I continue to drink.
And here I must face the sad realities.
The two great monsters and the ends of this town lay dormant, but present, and stare each other down.
We can exist above this charade within an insular dimension.
Blinkers on. Hats off to us.
From each rebirth, this is what will save me.
A rare moment of absolute clarity, although I do not know the cause.
Is it escape from fear? Or the complete realization of my fear of death?
But its liberating.
A vision of all of the things that I could achieve.
Its not dark.
Its blinding light.
I plan to exist inside this.
And from each rebirth, this is what will save me now.
Feverish were the days before I lost it completely.
I strive to surprise.
I could never have imagined a reaction so pleasant and so true, however confrontation never did suit.
On the edge of a precipice, and a dark one at that.
The uncertainty concerning my own actions is tantalizingly distressing.
Maybe I'll go.
Maybe tomorrow.
In this rebirth,, I've lost what would once have saved me.
And so they're leaving me behind.
But who knew we could go so long without sleep.
And this insular spectrum is a quagmire of guilt and filth, Population One.
So maybe I'll fall.
Sink.
And ultimately, typically, drown.
Exactly like the specter that occupies my nightmares.
It was at this time that I realized perhaps I did not require solace.
From each twist of the spirit.
From each crisis.
From each glimpse into the face of the supernatural presence.
From each destruction and from each rebirth.
I do not wish to be saved.
Onward with a maverick as acting muse.
A Brave New World.
A brave new identity.
We drank poison for breakfast again.
It's the sound of the Bell's and feedback from before we were born.
After much argument, we arrive together.
As a single insecure unit.
A giant trembling insect.
And we both wonder if our voyage into the strangely familiar was worth our energies.
I fell.
And this was the fate that received me.
I asked for revolution.
I received only murmurs.
I often wish I were a caricature.
So I drink up like a ***** and call myself vain.
And now I feel like death cooled down.
It's rickety and transitional.
I need escape and asylum.
I Must Not Turn Around.
This state of flux is torture and consumption.
I will listen to the same sounds over and over.
Becoming completely self absorbed.
I wonder if I'll always remain the same.
Or if I'll substitute.
For once, a new universe.
There is only superficial light.
Mere crackles and cackles outside.
It was at this time that I came upon the realization that I am identical.
I could not tell one pig from another.
So I shuffle back behind the curtain.
It's safe here, for now.
Concealed by distraction.
Keep the screaming child at bay.
I collapsed on the bridge.
Four walls are stormed.
The absurdity of changing colour and the god-like relevance of this was like an electrode to the brain.
For a while we sat still.
It was at this time that I chose the most difficult avenue.
From this rebirth I'm putting myself in the hands of another. This will not save me.
I'm struggling, I'm scared, and I'm sorry.
If I expose myself, if I stick out my tongue would you do the same?
I am quite prepared to gaze into the eyes of the monstrous spider.
And accept one world over another.
Its the clambering back and forth I cant stand.
An ascent into Purgatory,
Chaos,
And finally, perhaps, Madness.
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 6:29 AM UTC
Potential. Is unknown to me.
Americans get therapy.
Buy the person they could be.
This does not apply to me.
I could qute easily amount to nothing.
Potential. I might have some.
But I saw horror with no fear.
What have I become.
Ready but just sitting here.
There is dirt under my fingernails.
Old friend.
Our time has come again.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
I would not repay the Theives
That stole
The control
But I will thank them
Everyday
Once I work out how to channel this experience to good
And become
Love.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 3:13 PM UTC
This time he said there might be
Hurricanes inside of me
But surley there's too much of planet earth
Left for me to see
He's the only one
Who doesn't underestimate me
Lack of interest
In the lives
Of the wealthy
Sends me to my room
What to do
When there's life
Inside of you
Maybe I'll get drunk
And you can get drunk too
And we'll lay under my ceiling
Try to figure out the meaning
Of life and death
And everything
And the thrill
I have the will
You have the way with words
You know exactly what you want to say
But I still have to learn
There's nothing I want more
Than to tell you how I feel
But sometimes I get
Paranoid
That I'm not real
And if reality is fake
Then we'd better hold on tight
For our sanity's sake
I don't know my left and right
Or what to give and how to take
Which hearts to mend
And which to break
Should I let these people hear the music that I make?
Cause the music that I make
It's the simplest part of me
Would you show the world your ***** naked body?
Although I'm not ashamed
Sometimes I still worry
That it's all a lie
But I still try
And the weight I carry
It's heavy now
I'm sinking down
To a box
Inside a box
I'll secure the key
You can throw away the locks
I may never feel the need
To tell myself to stop
Time is ticking by
But I'm not noticing the clock
If X marks the spot
You can draw it on my heart
Cause sometimes I feel
I need something
To help it make a start
Taking blood from my veins
Purify
Relieve the pain
Then send it off
Again away
To my body
Numb and cold
I always do as I am told
Cept when I do
As I do next
Rip my heart out
From my chest
Extract the passion
From my head
And with this
In peace
I rest.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC