As my material falls apart
in the rapture of time,
space will fill with curiosity.
As my shed skin collects
in the corners of my room,
significance will wipe me away.
The certainty of a single leaf,
the acceptance of a toppled anthill,
the colors of muddy waters,
however dull they may be;
The mundane will be filled with all the mystery
of the furthest reaches of our distant neighboring star.
The cold reality will burn anew
in that timeless flame of electron.

What does it mean to be quiet?
What does it mean to let go?
What does it mean to be dying
Alone?

What do you need to keep trying?
What do you need to grow?
What do you feel when I tell you you've had it
All along?

Does it bite you to the bone?

Does it grab you and never let go?

Or do you let it pass by like
So many things
Before?

Opened your eyes and shut the door.

Doesn't that shake you to your core?

What does it mean when nothing means anything,
What do you do with your time now?
You've taken in all the world's troubles,
And haven't let a single thing out.

When my time

Blows out of my hands

Like the sands of some
Long-forgotten sea,

Scraping off ****** debris
Into dustdevils of misery

Poisoning my well-being,

I am afraid.




When my shine

Blots out my thinking

Like the hands of some
Long-forgotten deity,

Strangling my ill feelings,

I feel a little insane.

It finds me down,
Out of air and *****.
It finds me sour.
These lemons really ****.

It finds me slipping
On rocks that used to support.
Getting lost in reminiscing:
To this, I now resort.
~
You found me at my worst
And raised me lovingly.
Our ideal bubble burst
And scattered vicious seeds.

So I found a way
To give you wings to fly.
I made myself the enemy
And in the same breath, died.
~
Please stop finding me.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
Let the dead turn in their graves
Away from prying eyes.

I'm no good in social situations,

so please leave me alone.

I don't want anything.

I just want to go home

and sit on my throne of lonely things.
All this space taken up
made of sweet nothings, it's my fault after all for laying faulty foundation.
Everything is ruined and I'm looking forward to the cleanup,
but the demo team is

still

here.
I'm trapped in by crumbling walls my windows opaque riddled with various rains there's a serious haunting
here.
My soul is
locked up by
locks that call
for new keys.
But I'm freaky and freaking out because the world I knew is gone, and I'm free to choose my way, but my road is all washed up and I never really knew anything except what's never to be again and it'd be the same either way so that leads one to see maybe I'm just an inferior beta-mind but I can't believe that since the light I

still

see shines so truthfully despite the numerous contradicting towers of humanity's need for stability in a place that is ever-changing and reactive to anything. I'm probably just a regular D with weak knees and sour feelings, indulging in escapism inside an ideal bubble, cruising around the nether regions of imagination and primal need, vicariously enjoying and hating almost every opportunity that can be seen, fooling myself foolishly with foolish fool's foolery and claiming some lofty potential, some identity that states that this is all for the best and one day you'll see, meanwhile disregard the footprints and the mean look, these were given to me after all, you should see what they ******* took, but anyways, to get back to what I was saying, I'm probably all that but if so I won't be playing, I'll keep skipping that track and if it happens to keep breaking,


let them know I was a person with dreams and aspirations until the mighty hand of culture killed them all with suffocation

You're blowing wind
Into my ear
You're blowing wind
I cannot hear

It's in the air its everywhere
I breathe it in it's on my skin
It's in the air its everywhere


You're blowing wind
Into my ear
You're blowing wind and
I don't care

Wind howls and whispers
Earth cracks and whimpers
Water rises and falls back
Fire does it all

A wall
stands tall
before me

Blocks
my sight
from truth

Grips me
like
fine honey

Stands strong
without
proof

All-knowing,
all-
denying

Dirt floor,
Sistine
roof

This wall
seems to be
growing

Growing where
flowers
grew

Flowers sown
with heavy
stone

The wall
puts them
to use

Dead, outdated, old, torn, faded
Shredded like cheese and fried like bacon
This particular cluster of mustered up star junk
Thought he hit rock bottom, then he sunk
What poor luck
Catch him on the breeze, going easy
Like a silent ****
Can't get a start *** he ****** on all the
Fire sparks
A bag of bones, regret, dusty reminiscings
Of things that weren't quite what they seemed
Hear him clearly...
For he is half deaf.
He would have more now
If he had but a fraction of what he left behind.
Look him in the eyes but he won't look back.
He's starting to see knives more like thumb tacks
Post your problem right next to the spine.

Maybe he could feel it but his brain is numb
Strung up and dumbed down,
A real ****** conundrum
...He has no hooks to spit
They tell him the bait choice is sick
But hardly any fish ever bit
So he sits in the sinking pit
Throwing rocks
Timing the bonks with the tick tocks.
Some say he'd really **** time if he had the chance
All the mind's romancin' reminds him of failed plans
He can't stand and see around,
When they told him to break a leg
He broke both just by casually leaning on em.

Seasons plot them uniform catastrophes;
Explosions of flowers weeds bugs trees, all so casually.
Compare that to this extremely sophisticated being
Flailing at every turn, constantly miscommunicating.
It's funny. A divine comedy. He begs the world "try me"
Then sits back n relaxes, crumbling the ivory tower
Just to build another one, then another, then
Cannibalize the next for another, self perpetuating blunder

I'm your fly
With all my eyes on your shadow
As you go about your business
Collecting me

Stuck mid-flight
You hold me in time and space
And this dusty corner
Becomes my world

And you hold me here
Hung from your remains
No one dare come save me
I am preserved

You must be jealous
Of my ability
To control my stream
Like a laser beam

You must be miffed
That I can scratch
As casually as my back
My holy sack

There must be envy
When, in the snow,
I write in cursive
My name in yellow

I must be mean
If I aim at you
Or maybe it's a blessing
Either way, they're just shoes

I usually sit
But I'm no lady
Call me crazy,
I'm just lazy



Just be glad
When you're aroused
You can walk around
Without walking funny,
hunny

Are you willing to trade
a moment of embarrassment
for a lifetime of
regret?

Let them say what they will about rock bottom.
Truth is, a foothold is the same wherever you might find it.

The world stopped turning but things still spin.
I think we need a rewind to do it again.
The tape's getting old, the wax is crumblin,
but it's bending round the folds and the sounds keep mumblin.
I know there's a toll coming up ahead. I didn't bring any change but I brought some bread to keep the
birds nearby flying over my head.
They let me know if they've been fed.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.
They let me know if there's something dead.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.

They told me I should plan a trip,
but they never mentioned I was already on it.
They told me it would all add up,
but I'm always short so I resort to pawnin.

God help me; birds, here's your bread.
Tell me if I'm already dead.
I'm heading for the mountains, empty-handed.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.