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#antwoord
I stopped caring. A view of the world outside escapes my morning eyes. I eclipse you. A view of the world outside reveals wire frame in black. The sky is wide. I'm just beneath heaven. Have you ever felt as close to god there? On the Earth turned cement dry? In the dregs where lines divide? I stopped caring. A view of the world outside escapes my morning eyes. I eclipse you. I regret that I see lines, instead. One triangle on its head, risen above the sun, above the moon. The sight of you, deprived, drives me back inside. ---------------------------------------------- Felt mostly alone. Never deprived. Unhappy with life, still overjoyed. My mama stole my name. My sister got her's took. Pass the line from child hood into adulthood, looking like, I know, I'm sure I know I can't owe you money, yet, I've never lived on my own. That's still true, too. Don't know the sound of silence, so when it's been most quiet staying with roommates, I take my chance at pretend. I wake up dying, laughing and crying at ghostly degrees floating with motes of dust on the sunbeams crossing my mattress in the living room. Felt mostly alone. Uneducated. Contented by kicking cans, though. Contented in stinky briefs, and the shirt that's food for my closet moths, looking for cheap ways to express the illness, the anger I hide. I believe, that some use our backs for stacking currency. For work. Invisible work, deep under the radar, pack mule to their nickel, fifty-fucking-cent pieces and dimes. I'm staring at pennies they leave me to roll, already rolling, like they expect me to catch up. The secret is: they want it so badly -- So game over. I ain't playing no more, when the piece I play climbs the backs of friends, my brethren of the low-low, one space at a time, with dice cooked, favor to snake eyes I'm not chasing pennies if I'm so close to the floor I'll always be carpet, I'll part the lint and braid to love what is free. I'll always be base to love what is free.
0
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
ZeroNine
Grievances - Go Getter/Zef Express
I stopped caring. A view of the world outside escapes my morning eyes. I eclipse you. A view of the world outside reveals wire frame in black. The sky is wide. I'm just beneath heaven. Have you ever felt as close to god there? On the Earth turned cement dry? In the dregs where lines divide? I stopped caring. A view of the world outside escapes my morning eyes. I eclipse you. I regret that I see lines, instead. One triangle on its head, risen above the sun, above the moon. The sight of you, deprived, drives me back inside. ---------------------------------------------- Felt mostly alone. Never deprived. Unhappy with life, still overjoyed. My mama stole my name. My sister got her's took. Pass the line from child hood into adulthood, looking like, I know, I'm sure I know I can't owe you money, yet, I've never lived on my own. That's still true, too. Don't know the sound of silence, so when it's been most quiet staying with roommates, I take my chance at pretend. I wake up dying, laughing and crying at ghostly degrees floating with motes of dust on the sunbeams crossing my mattress in the living room. Felt mostly alone. Uneducated. Contented by kicking cans, though. Contented in stinky briefs, and the shirt that's food for my closet moths, looking for cheap ways to express the illness, the anger I hide. I believe, that some use our backs for stacking currency. For work. Invisible work, deep under the radar, pack mule to their nickel, fifty-fucking-cent pieces and dimes. I'm staring at pennies they leave me to roll, already rolling, like they expect me to catch up. The secret is: they want it so badly -- So game over. I ain't playing no more, when the piece I play climbs the backs of friends, my brethren of the low-low, one space at a time, with dice cooked, favor to snake eyes I'm not chasing pennies if I'm so close to the floor I'll always be carpet, I'll part the lint and braid to love what is free. I'll always be base to love what is free.
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79
Don't be afraid to come into the backroom. Part the curtain first if you think you need a peek, but honey, I've been waiting here with all the answers. You'll see. What do you seek from this trans-trash patch of bleached grass? Underneath, infinite versions of me/my design holes, tunnels in mud searching for sunshine. But I want to ask you, who claims the noose? Who gets to rise past the others in the end, but then gets the knife so as to start again? All ants, all ants, pull all but two legs loose, and you're dancing in pants, wearing the tune of the long, last living human in blues.
0
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
ZeroNine
Human in Blues
Don't be afraid to come into the backroom. Part the curtain first if you think you need a peek, but honey, I've been waiting here with all the answers. You'll see. What do you seek from this trans-trash patch of bleached grass? Underneath, infinite versions of me/my design holes, tunnels in mud searching for sunshine. But I want to ask you, who claims the noose? Who gets to rise past the others in the end, but then gets the knife so as to start again? All ants, all ants, pull all but two legs loose, and you're dancing in pants, wearing the tune of the long, last living human in blues.
Continue reading...
17