hot coffee and stale cigarettes
while i reflect upon circumstances
and i suspect that the regret
will dissipate, while hope appirates
and my self confidence condensates
so i compensate for a lack of self meaning
by pushing the boundaries of what you seem
to see in them; dreaming of my next moves
like a display at the art gallery
you need to stand behind the line
while i sing "come on over Valerie"
so it's self lobotomy
as i open my mind up to the aether
and either i push forward to let go of her
or i stab the inner me that says i need her
so i make friends with the ladybirds
wasps and the ant hills and burn my lip on my cup as
i make a move to get my fills
and make peace with the fact that everything must one day
go up in smoke.
i'm looking for the switch
that i know must be there
it's like groping for the light in an unfamiliar room
all i can feel is the rough and rusty edge of an old filing cabinet
of a mouldy moving box,
and so i move deeper into the room
and trip over all the things i threw in there
but i still have to look at them
why didn't i have the foresight to clear a path? and why can't i find the switch?
i don't want to feel so powerfully. i need to find the switch and turn it off. Rip the nubbin out of the wall and eat it like a pill. Class A prescription for the pain. This is why i avoid making connections. i have a weak immune system and i catch feelings like the plague so that all i see are stars and bars.
i feel awash in an ocean of inadequacy and you ask me how i can't see what you see and it's because i can't find that ******* switch. when i think about it i fall about in stitches, while she wishes i wouldn't worry her but how can i even begin to relate when all i've ever felt is alone.
Brief flashes of warmth, and I can already feel the heat fading. i can read you too well and i can see too many steps ahead. so that i charge bravely into that new world knowing full well that in the end i will be alone again and you will have moved above me. all i can see are stars and bars.
i wish i could find the switch.
I'm afraid to jump the gun
And express the welling tide of feeling
Because how can I?
You would drown.
Or run away from the flood of my arms
And curse yourself for approaching the shore.
So I mark off the edge, and warn against those who would swim.
But I want you. And I'm sick of this island.
Though it is safe and though I can do no harm here, I can't be satisfied with the messages you send; delivery by bottle.
Drunk on the words they contain, I need more from the source.
So I'll jump the gun, and suffer a shot to the foot of course.
Under the black light
You lay bare.
A band of luminescent pearls
Declare your smile
And the rainbow whorl
A cascade of electricity
Humility and humbled
We throw ourselves to the void
My back carved like the grooves,
Aged wood of the telephone trunk
A playground of negative space
And in my haste I remember to savor the taste
Of the chemical calm
Of the drone inside the walls
As we embrace
i don't need anyone or anything
i'm a self-sustaining music machine
infinite energy, wax and wane
some times i feel vain
while i contemplate pain and imagine security
in the arms of another, spurious and distant
i hold my stance and raise my arms
a pitiable defense against the rigours of a lonely life
but they're all i've got and so i take a stab
because the only constant in strife is that nothing short of ****** will stop me
and even though i may feel blue, it's only cos i wanted company
i feel at odds with the inner me
and ashamed that i have to explain myself
and apologize for the tremor i felt
my hands shake with the weight of a thousand cuts, hidden
beneath a thick veneer of smiles and "how are you?"s
she was the only one to reach through and hold the trembling nucleus
to say "it's okay, I know that you can do this"
but i worry her and i can only think about how much i worry them
i some times worry myself, now i think again
but this is the way i am built and i will make it all the same
life is a series of moments and kindly strangers met on a late-night train
i want to be like you. it's easier to like myself now.
but it breaks my heart that i can't explain it properly, anyhow.
At a stroke I feel the heat
Winding pulse of electricity
Beneath me I feel grounded, thunderstruck
My love abounded
So wherefore am I bound?
To tread lonely is no cause for fanfare sound
And yet to know warmth is to know bitter lacking
For in the lean times when friends seem far away
All I can feel is that maybe I was not good enough
At a stroke I banish these thoughts
But I am ill prepared to walk
The twisting thread, the tightrope-drop
And alack, I curse that I should be forgot
I hate that I should have to fight
The inner me with all my might
Who at a whim should change his coat
That in the shade I suffer'd stroke.
I cut out all the reminders and remainders
You said yes but I know
That it can only be no
I'm all that's left the morning after.
Inspired by a breakup, and too much Elliott Smith