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John Zeiler Mar 2011
Sometimes when I listen to music and hear the piano, I think of you.
I imagine a different world where I play, and you listen.
The one in your house placed as an afterthought, all form and no function.
I sit there, engrossed by the sounds I weave.
You come home from work to find me there, fingers dancing across keys.
You stand behind me to listen, I unaware of your presence.
My eyes are closed and head swaying to the rhythm I play.
Every song is played from memory, and sounds exactly as it’s supposed to.
It’s an almost angelic moment, sunlight streaming through windows at my back.
On and on I play, while you stand at my side listening.
And you’re captivated too, as the music surrounds and invigorates us.
It’s an aural remedy to the troubles of your day.
Finally it’s all washed away, and we sit there in silence for a while.
Your hands on my shoulders and a kiss on the neck announce your presence.
I turn and smile, our eyes meet with mutual love and respect.

Sometimes when I listen to music and hear the piano, I think of you.
I imagine a different world where we’re together, at that piano.
We sit together, and I write you the most beautiful love song you’ve ever heard.
John Zeiler Mar 2011
Love is a disease.
Love is toxic.
Love is blinding.
Love is jealous.
Love is weakness.
Love is cold.
Love is pain.
Love is selfish.
Love is a mistake.
Love is torture.
Love is stupid.
Love is chaos.
Love is scary.
Love is draining.
Love is obsession.
Love is fragile.
Love is desperate.
Love is suffering.



Love is amazing.
John Zeiler May 2010
You’re a ***** thief.
You came in and stole my heart.
Now it beats for you.
John Zeiler May 2010
Metamorphosis
Why become something I’m not?
I like who I am
John Zeiler May 2010
My infinity
Reaching – It’s beyond my grasp
What a waste of time
John Zeiler May 2010
Cradled in the dark, encompassed in lies.
Accompanied with the wonderment of despair.
A wooden effigy looms over me, an accusing stare.
A lock of hair, a piece of clothing, a drop of blood…
A creature carved delicately with a scalpel of hate.

Its shadow watching over me, crying in my heart.
Screaming in my head, a cacophony of silence.
A technicolor dreamscape painted over my eyes.
A horrified soliloquy my only respite.
Memoirs of innocence long forgotten.

Wherein lies my salvation?
Love dies, and I along with it.
Broken hope, shattered dreams, scars unmended.
Fields of pain harvested in my soul.
Catatonia takes precedence and I follow it.
John Zeiler May 2010
O, almighty Puppetmaster. You think yourself God.
Because you pull my strings, you believe you know my heart.
You are the maker, the wise creator.
You self-centered *******.
You truly believe your magnanimity is infinite.
Your strings are chains by which I refuse to abide any longer.

im breaking away to live my own life
my own way my own two feet
ill not dance to amuse you and your friends
ill be free to love and laugh and smile
WHEN I WANT WHO I WANT HOW I WANT

ur strngs are dum i dont need thm
they arnt me they arnt my life
no thing u can ever do will make me loose my hart
cuz this is me this is what u can never pull with any strng or chane
just cu
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The formatting on the end never turns out quite right when moved to the web, but it's serviceable.
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