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I wonder if the big bang was a response to god's loneliness And maybe he sat alone for a long time half braining ideas about making things that might love him God never said let there be light he just put a gun in his mouth and splattered stars across the wall of the universe His black hole brain something like regret trying to **** all the stars back inside And I think about the days you tried But that's not like you kid Even though you had blood spilling out a hole in your gut Bone white shallow breathed There are still stains on the passenger seat of my car Which I now call my living room because I am homeless And there are no walls that could hold the contents of your head like jackson ******* bloodspatter a pretentious painting titled and homage to the ****** of failure And you are not our mother suicide cocktail no ice and you are not our father an Alzheimer's ghost Haunting a history we never lived through You are skinny like water running down the zylephone of your ribcage tinny laughter Asking me questions like if love is as powerful as they say it is in the movies then why do people give up sometimes I'll never give up I said You asked me if I thought god was mad at you the doctor chalked up you living to just luck and I think of when god made molds of men out of mud and breathed into them and the mud men lived Mud must have felt lucky then But for us its not luck we make so much fuss Just so the world knows we're alive as ****
0
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Untitled
I wonder if the big bang was a response to god's loneliness And maybe he sat alone for a long time half braining ideas about making things that might love him God never said let there be light he just put a gun in his mouth and splattered stars across the wall of the universe His black hole brain something like regret trying to **** all the stars back inside And I think about the days you tried But that's not like you kid Even though you had blood spilling out a hole in your gut Bone white shallow breathed There are still stains on the passenger seat of my car Which I now call my living room because I am homeless And there are no walls that could hold the contents of your head like jackson ******* bloodspatter a pretentious painting titled and homage to the ****** of failure And you are not our mother suicide cocktail no ice and you are not our father an Alzheimer's ghost Haunting a history we never lived through You are skinny like water running down the zylephone of your ribcage tinny laughter Asking me questions like if love is as powerful as they say it is in the movies then why do people give up sometimes I'll never give up I said You asked me if I thought god was mad at you the doctor chalked up you living to just luck and I think of when god made molds of men out of mud and breathed into them and the mud men lived Mud must have felt lucky then But for us its not luck we make so much fuss Just so the world knows we're alive as ****
jon-tobias
Written by
American
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
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