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He said I got all my life ahead of me to stop kicking my teeth in when it's not others delivering kicks covering me in spit in passing Life is the essence of difficult leaving you being and breathing and thinking when all you want is the option to disappear but it's the fear, so clear, when you're alone or homeless or in a pit that ain't six feet that it easily seems descending, that is the definite call to action, man, I can't say the words to save you, you're in your own hands but if you're listening stop pretending that you can't hear the reverberation on your insides. Maybe you'll die young and me too, but not with the mind's eye closed that's why I plea to keep you running on empty when you're friendless, when you're so far from blessed, you're cursed, and wishing for an enemy. Hate me now for the truth, I don't hate you. Stare down at the ground at your shoes if it pays, I can't help but notice you notice you're built for more, and you're due. And then he comes in. Like a whirlwind. Flipping his arms and crossing them, can't tell if he's plotting or genuine in his vehemence. Virulent eyes compliment perfectly venomous sentences or just as quick turn icy blue if it's better to give me the shoulder. He can't believe to this day I'd betray what was left of his confidence in me and I ain't going to lie I've been a liar caught in the web I thought I had protection against. He saw me there by the sidewalk then caught up in happenstance, cavorting with an upsetting ghost supposed to be left in the past, but he don't understand, I can shut off the phone or ignore every message received in belief and knowing I deserve more than this woman ever gave, but I refuse to be cruel with active intention to a life I simply have no other choice but to rearrange. He said, I hope you're not doing this for me when I started to change, to climb higher and rise up from the grave I'd been digging out for myself with utter complacency, shedding passivity for determination in exchange and in the end it all seemed good till a misstep, hell you invited me back into the bed where you slept so we could be together and both sleep. Call me naive. Dependent. **** it, I guess I was but I now I understand being played by a hypocrite. Nothing can be every way for you, so now that I'm getting up on two feet you feel you can't be a friend to me. Rather than take a breath to exhale your bitterness you'd expel me with superficial rage hiding indifference. Called naive. Dependent. **** it, I guess I was but now I understand what you said before, yes, and I'll take a stand, I'm worth about as much work as I'm putting in, to the mind I am, to the body I hold, but it's old. I doubt you're listening. History repeats. You build me up. You destroy me. You fill my heart. You silence beats. You power me. You're wearing down my energy. I'm off work. So I'm sitting down under the open sign at Marian's with a cigarette.
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
Marian's All-Nite Diner: "Under the Open Sign"
He said I got all my life ahead of me to stop kicking my teeth in when it's not others delivering kicks covering me in spit in passing Life is the essence of difficult leaving you being and breathing and thinking when all you want is the option to disappear but it's the fear, so clear, when you're alone or homeless or in a pit that ain't six feet that it easily seems descending, that is the definite call to action, man, I can't say the words to save you, you're in your own hands but if you're listening stop pretending that you can't hear the reverberation on your insides. Maybe you'll die young and me too, but not with the mind's eye closed that's why I plea to keep you running on empty when you're friendless, when you're so far from blessed, you're cursed, and wishing for an enemy. Hate me now for the truth, I don't hate you. Stare down at the ground at your shoes if it pays, I can't help but notice you notice you're built for more, and you're due. And then he comes in. Like a whirlwind. Flipping his arms and crossing them, can't tell if he's plotting or genuine in his vehemence. Virulent eyes compliment perfectly venomous sentences or just as quick turn icy blue if it's better to give me the shoulder. He can't believe to this day I'd betray what was left of his confidence in me and I ain't going to lie I've been a liar caught in the web I thought I had protection against. He saw me there by the sidewalk then caught up in happenstance, cavorting with an upsetting ghost supposed to be left in the past, but he don't understand, I can shut off the phone or ignore every message received in belief and knowing I deserve more than this woman ever gave, but I refuse to be cruel with active intention to a life I simply have no other choice but to rearrange. He said, I hope you're not doing this for me when I started to change, to climb higher and rise up from the grave I'd been digging out for myself with utter complacency, shedding passivity for determination in exchange and in the end it all seemed good till a misstep, hell you invited me back into the bed where you slept so we could be together and both sleep. Call me naive. Dependent. **** it, I guess I was but I now I understand being played by a hypocrite. Nothing can be every way for you, so now that I'm getting up on two feet you feel you can't be a friend to me. Rather than take a breath to exhale your bitterness you'd expel me with superficial rage hiding indifference. Called naive. Dependent. **** it, I guess I was but now I understand what you said before, yes, and I'll take a stand, I'm worth about as much work as I'm putting in, to the mind I am, to the body I hold, but it's old. I doubt you're listening. History repeats. You build me up. You destroy me. You fill my heart. You silence beats. You power me. You're wearing down my energy. I'm off work. So I'm sitting down under the open sign at Marian's with a cigarette.
wren-djinn-rain
Written by
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
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