Friday, August 28, 2009

In My Life, Why Do I?

"Find someone and put them in your back pocket, save it for a rainy day. Wait until the one you once loved goes away. Pull out your list and pick and chose who you please, and start all over again. You have no problems with discarding people like cards, you have problem bringing them all in like cards as well. You are the one to push, you are the one to take, and you are the one to leave. You take pride in this, and for that, you are cruel. There is nothing good to come out of it, for you are selfish. We as humans are stupid, so we follow, like flies to a light, and we fall, like flies to a light."

Pre-death realization.

"When I speak up, you shove your voice down my throat, and I choke. I stand to be kicked in the back of the knees. Who needs confidence when you know when it falls on deaf ears. What good is yourself when you are of no use to anyone? What is the point of tired efforts of trying, when no one wants you to love yourself. Why should I love myself when I know I'm incompatible? The spirit is a mere fabrication, only made to be broken. Hope is mere fiction, only to be disproved. Esteem is a mere outlet, for everyone else. Running low, running so low. When everyone is nothing but a mere figure, a stand in the background of everything, life loses it's importance. I don't care about myself, or anyone else."

Where am I?

"I've grown so worn down that I've forgot what love is. You filed me down, and the rest of me went with the wind. This is the rest of me, this is what is left of myself. You see, you always could tell, you always know what you're doing. Taking advantage of what? I don't know. I don't know what you can gain from me, I don't seem to be of much help these days. What do I do, that makes me different from whomever you've spoken to? You can't answer that with a straight face. Mine's been going blue for the past few weeks, choking slowly, and accepting what's ahead."

Monday, August 17, 2009

Well tell them this;

"I'm corrupted by normality, it's been giving me spots in my vision from controlling my reality. I'm getting adapted to the same old feeling, going through the same old emotions. I'm lead to experience, excite, disappoint and accept misery. What do I do when I'm too worn down to want to continue again? I'm corrupted by sex, it's been making me numb. When I excite, I relieve and then I don't care anymore. It blurs my perception on love, it stunts my growth on maturity, and you fuel. You are no better, you are nothing short of ordinary."

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Days of permanence.

"In a way I'm numb, so I feel like nothing. In a way I'm nothing, but don't call me that. It could be said that I don't care, as well as it could be said that you care far too much. I could pretend like you don't, but who's the one to get ahead of their-self? I watch you, from a distance of course, and I notice the way you break. I can see your wall dissipate, I can hear your being separate. What have you molded into? This love has surely taken the best of you. It seems you have broken off the key inside of the lock, jumped the gun and now regret. Fish in between the cracks, break your nails for the rest. Too far in to take out now, this is the life you chose. In a way I'm numb, but I can still laugh."

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

And it doesn't

"Well honey this is what I like to call the real world. This is something you don't understand. This is life in it's purest form, don't you get it? When I strung you high from the skyline it was only to see how you fit in with the city lights. I don't know if you stick out in the right way. Go back to your room and think about your days. Learn from your mistakes and place the proper blame. Until you bend to break, rebuild, maim."

Monday, August 10, 2009

It's slows down a bit.

"I don't know what it is anymore.
When one could ask me how I feel,
I would simply just not reply.
This is a standstill, a low in my life.
Never before, I pray never again.
Is it me, or is it everyone else?
Am I better here, or nowhere at all?
These questions fill my mind every day.
Now when I go to sleep, I don't feel the need to awake.
Though I do, for some reason or another.
It makes less and less sense by the day.

What happens when the chains are broken and you're in a corner?
You will lie down and you will accept your fate.
What happens when you torture, because you cannot feel?
You will lie down and you will accept your fate.
What happens when you pry your fingers into every crevasse,
Blow wind in the eyes of,
Scream in the ear of,
Destroy the being of,
You will wake up and change your ways."

Sunday, August 9, 2009


"I can't think anymore, no I can't. I wrap myself up and I put myself to sleep from running around my thoughts. No one to pass them along, no one to pick me up. Sidelines stare of course, they'll look away when they've had their share. I break my legs, I scrape my knees, and eat the pavement. Everyone is bigger, I'm only human. I feel in inches, I talk in inches, I am an inch. Towers of you, inch by inch, the smaller I become. You are the crowd, you surround, you are everywhere. I want to collapse, I await my weakening, I accept who I am."

Saturday, August 8, 2009

What it can become.

"Two younger men, parents don't know where they have been. Beat the curfew by a few months ago, strolling around for a nights night. Now could you push a little higher? Catch me when I land. Falling down, cackling, sand gets in the most uncomfortable places. Fond since 12, and they spent all day reminiscing. Now when you go off to higher educations, where will I be left? Do I follow? Do I mutter under my breath? Day dream all night. Will one stay, and we'll fall back in to the midst of locality? Please James, wait up for me."

Thursday, August 6, 2009

You call this underground?

"She's attached to the neon signs, pushes her waist forward in hopes of city lights. She wanted those amber colored nights, the one you can only see in some pictures, the ones you had to be there to get. She wants to talk about all yesterdays parties with a hangover in mind and coffee in hand. Wake up in a motel bed, a room smaller than your apartment. Answer the door half naked, only stop to question where did your drugs go? Will there be enough for tonight, and if so, will I run out if I split them with my friend. Oh never mind the future, just take pictures now."