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.
I really don't have time for this,
see, I have a date with the veins inside my wrist.
so sorry that I need to dash,
I'm busy planning my relapse,
If this time I can't bring myself back,
know it was dignity I lack.
Just keep it in your stride,
as I burrow deep inside,
searching for something that looks like pride,
I really thought you would not mind.
ps. it was six.
I'm sick of knowing things and thinking -
I'm sick of knowing what you're going to do -
I am sick of being right -
I am sick of seeping sick.
I. Am. Sick.
and
also,
(it was six)
Can you hear that?
this steady, quickening tap?
Words howling whispers,
tap tap tap.
Surely you can hear that.
that quickening, sickening rap
Ideas swelling swirling
rap rap rap.
I can only hear that?
the epic, consuming crack -
That signals the final break.
crack crack broke.
The dingo is not aware,
of the tendons and bile,
dripping from their teeth,
That shocks the world to quiver and stare.
This dingo doesn't know,
why the foolish people,
would Choose to live and home,
inside the angry red world,
the dingo must slink in and roam.
I would just like it to be alright,
then maybe
it may been
might have been worth the try.
no one is coming to save my life.
But that's alright,
I've already done it twice.
Here we go
ninth night in a row
but then again,
wasn't that nine nights ago.
well apparently it goes like this,
its not really faith when you demand proof,
you know You,
so you must know what I have to lose.
when did you get so skinny.
look at your life,
it's not linear.
When did you get so near,
to wasting
and dying away.
what do words mean anyway,
when you aren't strong
enough
to put them inside a phrase
gracefully take away
the endless consequences of life
And just get it done for one more day.
slow down there son
you think you know too much
I know we are all dying
but you seem to be in a bit of a rush.
everything can hear the holes in your lungs
everyone can see amongst the grating of your tongue
you can feel your liver.
you know you will only get thinner.
calm down now kid,
you're becoming something only you could miss.
well would you look at you,
you've fucked it all up
haven't you.
what would you say to her,
if her ears were somewhere that could hear
your pathetic prose,
painted chose
what I wanted to show.
Look At You.
annihilated the one single thing you wanted.
Fuck you,
And the horse you rode in on,
Make sure to fuck that too.
Well do you want my shoes too?
If you're taking all I can do
Might as well be a clean break
If im too busy mocking fate
Please sweetie don't dirty your hands,
Oh once again you've forgotten our plans
(Probably too busy fucking someone else?)
Well love fuck right off
and I'll leave you to jack off
Fuck you and
you know what,
fuck me too.
I have words
and you have feet
surely
that is all
we could ever need
I will not write one more word,
until I find you one unheard,
That might stick to your mind,
Evening and caressing through my lines -
And be side of life,
Be cautious and be wise,
This world may not ready for this kind-
Of revolting to survive,
It is times like these,
In the deepest corners of melancholy,
A panging painful nostalgia,
of a being I did not know how to be.
A paper tiger starting teething,
I've become an expert in leaving
You probably didn't want it anyway,
But I'm going and taking my love away.
You came at me,
as though I was yours to need,
Set your feet,
I'm coming for what I believe.
Look at what happened then,
I caged my life away,
If you wouldn't stay,
I didn't want it anyway.
I think I once thought beautiful,
then I could not recall
Any shade or shape
Beast of science, Doctor of faith.
I think I could feel it dying anyway,
Quietly dropping away,
But now,
She made me forget how to supress my mind.
There are trees again,
There are clouds and I do not think they end.
Well in case you're not sure.
Here's how to remember me,
if at all.
Didn't own much pride,
Content to let everything slide,
Didn't go many places,
Too many screaming lives,
Too many screaming faces,
but I did write some words,
Certain I would say something unheard,
though I haven't just yet,
Too much time baking in regret,
So what is it going to be?
Stick around and pray to achieve something before you're free -
Or, embrace the unknown side,
and trust, you've done enough,
Not to make it out in life.
