Sipping inebriation to pass the time.

Desires of an almost,
but not quite,
criminal mind…

A mind of mine.

Thinking and thought out,
like the smoke screen that was blown about
by the atmosphere as it lifted off.

Finally a completed thought,
and it’s too late…

It’s stopped,
or not.

My mind returns to me in a song
that only I can sing along to.

Out of tune to you,
but in line with mine
and everything we all do.

I’ll sit while long ago should have been cut off takes my spot.

An engine turned on
leaves me to believe I’ve done wrong.

A thinking woman figures it out
and returns to remind me…

I’m a shell in my own personal hell
and everyone else knows better.

Remove a sweater
and lose the winter skin,
or hold onto and be tormented forever
in a city where if you know no one
you don’t know me,
and get lost in a world of infinite impossibilities,
and let the warmth surround me,
and breath the clean air…

The air where The Glitter Man
and I both agree.

And forever be free.

Here we are,
there we were,
watching matters
flutter by...

Without sight,
out of mind.
Closed off from the view
that we all carried…

With, or without me…

Or the line passed onto you.

I can see still
a place we have,
like looking back
at the stream we passed…

Laying down I’m taken back...

With a flash I see again…

With not a care
we float on by
on the ground
while in the sky.

I really did like you…

As far as human interactions go.

Beyond the jagged edges of
metallic creations,
or the infinite circuitry
passing through information’s…

Like each other passing through one another.

Take a hood off,
waste a smile.

Cold ice glare,
warm caring stare.

Climb a case,
change your ways
to get out of another's
personal space.

Be yourself,
pretend to be someone else.

Have your day,
or put aside.

Love me blindly,
or blind my mind.

Kiss me here,
or have me never.

Pour the rain,
or clog the drain.

You were a victim too,
but they’re still going to charge you…

Very few get away.

Thinking about a society;

One in all or too many in a singular.

Put in place,
undeserved fate.

Stealing from another me...

Being something
I don’t want to be.

It doesn’t make it any better…

On the contrary,
it only makes it hurt more after.

Walk on by…

One of these times
the machine will stall
and it will be interchanged for
something that will not fail to fall.

Cutting me down to one knee,
or a pollution too powerful to last…

This one last time
I’ll watch her pass.

One look away…

Wasn’t given.

It’s easy when it’s clear.

It’s easier when it’s not.

To walk away…

Regrets for a death bed.

Put a bullet in my head
so I can skip the bit.

Saying goodbye
thinking

I don’t want to die…

Well here’s here
and we’re all going over there...

Prove a point
that’s almost as old as time.

I think she came first,
but I can’t beat this out of my mind.

Something in the way she focuses her lens,
or captures with her eye.

Im beyond oblivion…

The last chance was spent thinking
of who she could capture next...
(What a catch)

And I’m the past tense.

It would be a great big lie
to tell you that,

‘I don’t think about
what it would be like
to be with you…

To lie with you…

To feel your hair against my face
and hear your breath compete
against my heartbeat.’

It would be untrue
if I didn’t tell you,

‘I don’t want to go out
it would only diminish my interest
through all the distractions...

Disturbing my focus...

Bright lights and loud sounds;
answering all the questions of others
cycling around.’

I would have to return to the spot
where we once were…

Then I could begin to truly re-spur
the feeling of when we were just laying
and wish again…

‘...That nothing would ever change
that moment where...


                 you and I…

                
                                  ...lie in place.’

...Doesn't matter where I place my point
when there was nothing there?
I did it anyway.

An outcome so simple to say,
they’ll call me a fool
for seeing this action through.

We are the unlucky ones,
the ones in tune to care.

I’m one world away from turning this dimension around
and I just might do it…

I’m one twisted laugh away from a disfigured joke
to being referred to as that demented bloke.


After all is said,
thought mattered not.

I’m a prisoner in someone else’s mind
and I’m looking for someone who’s blind…

...for someone who can’t see my insides.

The person who best suits me
turns out to be
the most incompatible.

The curse of birth
carries my blood
along with me.

I’d bleed black if the prism ever broke.

I think you know,
but it doesn’t show.

My truth is a little less then a window.

I spin my thoughts around all matters
and feel untrue feelings
just to judge what it all means.

I choose to open or close
until it breaks in and takes all it can
and then I’m left angry and afraid.

I shatter myself and a disfigured creature lurks out…

I regain control by picking up the shiniest pieces
as I try to put myself back together...

Into something respectable...

Into something better...

And I will hate myself
because of last night’s yurinings.
I know it’s not good for my health...

But I can’t stop craving
carving a path
that’s shelved.

I go to work disheveled
and in need of help,
but I can’t stop hurting.

Is it wrong of me to hate you?
Because I don’t.
Although I wish I could...