some want it, I don't want it, I
want to do whatever it is I do
and just do it.
I don't want to look into the
adulating eye,
shake the sweating
palm.
I think that whatever I do
is my business.
I do it because if I don't
I'm finished.
I'm selfish:
I do it for myself
to save what is left of
myself.
and when I am
approached as
hero or
half-god or
guru
I refuse to accept
that.
I don't want their
congratulations,
their worship,
their companionship.
I may have half-a-
million readers,
a million,
two million.
I don't care.
I write the word
how I have to
write it.
and, in the
beginning,
when there were no
readers
I wrote the word
as I needed to write the
word
and if all
the half-million,
the million,
the two million,
disappear
I will continue to
write the
word
as I always have.
the reader is an
afterthought,
the placenta,
an accident,
and any writer who
believes otherwise
is a bigger fool than
his
following.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
once your heart tells you to do one thing and your mind tells you another, you go with what they say.
when your fingers interlock with someone else's that aren't who they're supposed to be you cringe at the thought of your feet touching at night.
once you start to believe what other people say is true, you start to disbelieve in what your teachers tell you.
contradictions make the curiosity even more unbearable, yet we still wonder around like its our job to get lost in the dark, never ending abyss of our mind and we wonder how it was even possible that we sunk so low in our self esteem where we cant get back up
and the lines that make up the picture of your sadness are carved into your skin, differing you from one another to the next and so on,
until you cant find yourself in you anymore and you go to someone else hoping to see some of yourself in their broken eyes
but you cant.
yet you still search on and on until you find one thread of yourself somewhere else and you keep pulling that until it runs out and you run out, but then what?
do you keep running or do you keep your mind set to never getting that feeling back in your gut like you got when you held that right persons hand, and when your feet touched at night.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
My grandmother's bones
Provide the support
To my empty rib cage
Evening the structure;
Her disappointment
Would be something great.
Taciturn tea leaves
In a ceramic urn
Allow some comfort
From their steam
While the lines
On my palm lie-
My bracelets of fortune
Can't be that short.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
Gypsy living. wandering, giving. love when you can, leave when you must, you can do the impossible if you trust.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
Gypsy likes it when it rains
Teardrops wreck the sky coming from a better place
Liquid pain falling from an angel's face
Gypsy trembles under her velvet and lace
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
I wage war
That's never been seen before
Is sanity worth fighting for?
I'm not really sure
Insanity?
A calamity?
I call it individuality!
Who is Society
To create this hypocrisy?!?
It seems like such a tragedy
To waste such ingenuity
To dull the creativity
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
I wake as your friend You wake as my lover
I speak as your lover You speak as my friend
I act as your possession You are my possesion
I rebel as your cover A means to an end
I hurt for your compassion You live for my acceptance
I injure for your respect Though it's never been withheld
I confide for your emotion You crave my direction
I give and you collect Never will you rebel
This is madness This is Sparta
This is insanity This is the price of exellence
I can't be everything for you I am your everything
You can't be everything for me I am magnificence
You treat everyone the same I am fair and righteous
As a friend, yet as a lover And yet you seek more
And it's a cruel, cruel game Dare you grow capricious
From your twisted love, no one recovers You'll become one I abhor
I am done You are confused
(I am never done) And I will not calm you
I am sick *As I am amused*
(But I'm not tired) As I drop little clues
I will run You'll never leave me
(I won't run) But I'll abandon you
Because I love you You'll always need me
(A better word is 'desire') And I'll never need you
Let me go! My grip is vice-like
(But you're not holding me) I'm not ready to let you go
Bring me back! If I lose you, 'my dear'
(But I never left) I must find yet another 'beau'
Love me only! And I've not the time to put effort
(But you love equally) In little minions like you
Push me away! I've not a care to give for
(Or bridge this rift) You insects I never knew
Please, disappear I am your torture
One day you'll understand But I am your salvation
That the twisted way you love I am your executioner
Could coax death from any human And I am your redemption
Please, disappear! You'll wish me dead forever
Though I'll weep when you're gone You'll wish me dead I know
I know sanity will return And you'll wish yourself deader
And I'll eventually move on. When away I finally go.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC