I am finding it hard to care either way.
I have to survive inside my head,
I can not jepordise that consequence in any more ways.
and just for one second somewhere,
I forgot what was me and what is you.
how do we do,
when my heart evaporates into truth.
Part Two.
I cannot seem to not be struck by the poignancy of these times.
I am a witness to the life everyone believes I lead.
I'm not in that much a hurry to die, I think I would rather drink and smoke into a simpler time.
If I cannot hold open my eyes,
I may not have to be the pain of growing wise.
Part One of a series of scenes I stumble across at home.
This dingo lives with two Italian men and a woman from Hong Kong who is potentially the most naive person I have ever encountered when it comes to drugs.
I do not participate in meth use (anymore) and have found it to be an insidious, terrible drug.
I do not want to watch my brothers die.
Tonight, I saw my mum cry,
because she sees my addict,
who cannot adapt,
to Any sober stride of life
even though I tried -
But
when she cried,
she was drunk past the eyes,
and falling everywhere
and it forced me hard to care
and I go into my bed
to ponder if what was said
will be recalled tomorrow
hungover with sorrow
Or
if it will disperse inside the atmosphere
and My Lies can finally be clear
only to me, In my head
to dispose of instead.
Words are bigger than you young one,
You excrete selfish poetry,
Now
you've had that time,
and probably then a bit of some.
You were always never alone,
these friends,
Words
consumed your own.
Man's holocaust is nowhere near to done,
We can close my eyes,
but
can never conjure what we 'Won'
you know I'll probably stop on my own.
when Life finally eludes me,
and I tumble back home.
I came to hung onto the ceiling,
Cramping into Kneeling,
and Kicking a brain around,
this broken little thing I found.
It is not much,
but I should probably keep some for my own,
a piece of Life, to carry back home.
sometimes I forget how young this body is,
it's been a few lifetimes (l)earning to exist,
But I know what you are doing.
why the splinter of movements
I can own it,
I'm pretty good at these things.
