I’ve been thinking about how one can fully understand the movement of life. How it goes unnoticed to most, slowly killing us. It should hurt, shouldn’t it? A constant moving pain that will eventually lead to some crazy hallucinogenic state of mind and you become the past. In a ball of flaming glory you could go out, and some do. Hopefully me too! Even though I know, it won’t mean a thing! because in the end it keeps going. And you become what’s gone.

I believe many people fear this. This ending of such. Some great men/women feared it. And they decided to be remembered but ultimately in the end, their end, nothing really changes. On the big scale of things they’ve contributed nothing, some of the greatest people you know, absolutely worthless. How can that be?

Because it is.

I don’t know a single thing

Leafed out trees scream
with cracks against the sky

A static chaos that *******
and leads to nowhere

Hidden beneath
is just half the expression

Muffled but reaching
Trampled only downward

It’s hard to change
when the roots sieve so deeply
and never get noticed.

How can I feel the way of songs
The songs that make you cry
My life a lie
Want to die
A noose I'll tie

But yet hold a place for you
An option I can choose
And know you won't refuse
This game I'll never loose

And also lust the girl
The one I've always known
That time has always shown
Our hearts together have grown

And remember the one I tore apart
Unknowingly hurt
Her feelings inert
Nothing left to exert

There is more
I could go on...
But I've found my chair
So I'll leave myself there
Hanging with the tune

There is more than four
But I won't have anymore.

I've often thought of this day
The day I write of losing you,
My heart I said would carry on
But how could this be true
The muse you are I knew I'd lose
I'll always write for you
its just now a different tune.

I didnt know what would happen
my dreams turn sour
Fingertips dented and hard,
Eyes need another hour
My Lips are numb from the filter  
I'll always write, I knew I could
I just wanted to write in love of you

I cant write

A handle is hard to describe
But in this thought I'll try

I am, with or without you
You do not have final say
My spine is strong and head still firm
Alas, I am just clay
My shoes without lace, and yet
A handle is not needed,
To keep me in place.

My function to do, is done without you
A servant of service I stay
I do not jest but I cannot fray
I just dont need your
Disfigured clay.

With you i am heavy but freeier than before.
You make my job easier, the job that is to pour

I can live without you babe,
Just wish that you had stayed
My life will go on
Your handle will be replaced.

You drank my thoughts
When you swam in my mind
Changed the currents
Calmed the rouge waves

And so the swimming lady swam deeper

You drank my thoughts
And liked the taste
It took your breath away
A motionless sway

And so the swimming lady swam deeper

I pulled you round
But you kept right
Trying to find life or distant light
You found nothing

And so the swimming lady sunk deeper

You hate the dark
Should of known this place
I didn't try to keep it away
That was your mistake

And so the swimming lady was dragged deeper

The floor is strange
Touch it
It traps you there as you're unaware
Forever staring upwards

And so the swimming lady swam no further