Oh, Scarlet's got a boyfriend now
She says she thinks she found the one
Well I don't what love is all about
I'm happy for her anyway
Oh they say that "You've missed out"
Cause you don't understand the misery
Oh they say that "you've gotta find out
I'd rather keep it all a mystery
My friend don't you worry about me
I got my head on my shoulders
My friend only cares about things
She say we're only getting older
This is the lyrics to a work in progress I'm writing. It's still very rough, but I thought I'd share it just because, hey why not. Let me know thoughts if y'all have any on this...
hypnotic euphonious voice
light folding out
energy plus light
organic biological treasure
skin cell facade
glowing from the inside out
love that light
You don’t get to come back
You can keep your lies
I know you didn’t try
Lighting up is all you had in your eyes
So me and guys and her
We suffered from the choices per
The addiction you let control you
One with drugs
One who lost
One with debt
And one who died
We all cried
We mourned what you took
What you stole
What we lost
We can’t retrieve that time
But the four of us
That’s two for me
Will make it up
So when you hear me
When you can come back
The answer is
When you clean up your act
I wrote this about about the sudden reemergence of my biological family and the emotions that come with that.
Why fear death?
It comes to us all,
wether you want it or not,
sooner or later,
nobody stays to tell the story,
when they go,
they say nothing and never come back
we try to reach out and nobody answers or calls,
guess we have to look for it in the yellow pages.
Language is a tool of tension.
It is simultaneously abstract and direct.
It is precise and also ambiguous.
How we interpret and respond to this tension is an idiosyncratic incident—very much an individualistic phenomena.
It is a biological signal.
An imprint made ad nauseam.
The seamless union of the physical and metaphorical.
An auditory artefact turned ode to the moment whose existence echoes beyond time and space.
A feeling as well as a thought.
An ephemeral touch that penetrates consciousness and burrows into the unknown.
Who Am I…©
Am I a biological cocktail
Of atoms and genes
A being of enlightenment
From another cosmos
A melding of time and experiences
Twisted into a known identity
A confluence of memories
That will one day fade into thin air
A figment of my imagination
A spiritual being going through a human existence
“We are human beings, not human doings.
Every once in a while we need to stop and smell the roses,
Hear what is really being said, taste the essence of life,
Touch someone’s heart and see life for what it truly is,
A journey with rest areas.”
Matrixes of information,
Complexity arising from simplicity,
DNA twisting up into the heavens,
Chemical compounds composing central axis,
Compounding the data of the human genome,
In a helical twist, folded into compacted perfection.
From the mighty general who sends men off to war,
To the parasite who feeds on others,
To the beast who wanders the woods, or the bacterium that thrives,
On a microscopic level.
All are made similar by Strings of the genetic code.
Almost as great or powerful an equalizer as death.
In most cases even more so.
Bitter thoughts and bitter drinks
Better friends and brighter pinks
Thinking like my father thinks
I swim in the same water
But in the end I sink
Used to make me want to drown
Bury myself in the ground
Just like my father did
My father had a problem with pills and needles
My father had a problem with lying and leaving
My father had a problem with me living
He couldn't love me
He never loved me
It says that on his tombstone in the park
I say I'm fine but I'm in the dark
My father had a ****** addiction
It caused a lot of friction
Caused a lot of sadness
Caused a lot madness
But in the end he died alone
He paid his debt to me with a death loan
My father was a lot of things
Or so I'm told
See I never met the ******* alive
Not that I didn't ******* try
He didn't want to be found
I was so ******* loud
I hate you
I ******* hate you
With all my heart
I just wanted to talk just once
And now you're dead
I deserve to know my father
I deserve to be loved
I deserved you when I needed you the most
You just had to **** that up didn't you
I'm scared of what I might do if I see you in the afterlife
You had a son you left behind
But you already left me once
Because you couldn't take care of me
Its not like you ******* tried in the first place
I hope you rot in hell
I hope you get every bit of pain and suffering you deserve you ******* worthless *******
Patrick, I'm glad you're dead.
Truly, now I don't have to worry about how you'd think of me
If you ever took the time to meet you
Anger towards my biological father
ignorance is bliss with a kiss
you could dismiss your choice is this
you had your night of fun
and look what has begun
the lady was taught how to plot
you got caught and took the shot
you took at it alone
your regret is your own
here comes the lady kinda shady
caring your baby oh no maybe
you should have used protection
on that *******
not a clue when you said I do
the glue that would ensue
you told your college days farewell
and hello to your days of hell
I came to be time to flee
you wouldn't agree you stayed with glee
you chose to pick up the pen
without a single amen
your trust we must adjust
for her lust was truly unjust
you should have gotten a test
and kept your address
you signed with pen your own sin
it came from within but then again
you jumped the gun
and its too late to run
No dad, no hassle.
No parental battle.
I guess this should be a good thing.
It's not like it's ever bothered me.
Except that it has,
But depending when you ask,
It doesn't anymore.
I'm completely fine.
I'll continue my life.
Nothing, nothing has changed.
I've managed without,
So why would I need?
Why would I want?
But sometimes I can't make up my mind.
So I do nothing to it.
It's the only thing that's safe.
Because once you've done something,
There's no going back.
Why give it the chance to effect me?
I don't want you.
Don't want to know you.
You don't even want to know me.
You're not my dad,
Barely a father.
To be a dad you have to stick around,
But you were never there to begin with.
Other daughters and fathers bond,
But I wouldn't want to with you.
You're the wrong type of person anyway.
Even though, I've seen some of your Facebook posts.
One I found very ironic.
And too much time has gone since I was born.
I bet you don't know I'm fifteen.
You've probably forgotten about your unknown daughters.
And why wouldn't you?
Funny, you don't know I exist.
But this poem, I wrote about you.